Through an Adult's Eyes
by signpost
Summary: Twelve years later. A dark night. A boy who hasn't forgotten his dreams of magic. A woman who gave up her dreams long ago. A new adventure awaits... ::COMPLETE::
1. one

For the eighth time in as many years, Sarah stood in front of her house, getting up the courage to try to open the door.  It wasn't that she was a coward, not by any means, it was just that... Well, she just didn't like heavy things falling on her toes.

Eventually, though, she knew that she had no choice.  She took a deep breath and carefully walked up the porch steps, sheer luck letting her avoid a catastrophe.  Balancing, she gingerly reached a hand towards the doorknob, afraid to even breathe.  She never made, it though.  Just as her hand was almost to the shiny doorknob, her other hand, grown sweaty in the heat, slipped, and then it was too late.

When her younger brother Toby opened the door, having heard the ruckus outside, he viewed what he saw with great amusement: his older sister, sitting dazed in a large pile of heavy books.

"Sarah?" He smirked.  "I always knew that Mom and Dad should have gone in for those ballet lessons."

"Quit being a brat and help me up."

Sarah cursed under her breath, wiggling the toes a particularly heavy book had landed on.  Toby did help her up without another word, but went back inside and flopped down onto the couch, his eyes quickly glazing over as he stared at the TV.  Outside, Sarah grumbled under her breath as she picked up the heavy books again, one by one, and attempted to balance them.

She dreaded the thought of attempting to lug them all up to her room, and knew that she wouldn't be staying forever anyway, so instead, she merely made her way to the kitchen.  With a sigh of relief, she opened her arms and let the books spill onto the table, mindless of any bent pages.

Ruefully rubbing her sore spots, Sarah walked into the family room where Toby sat, blissfully unconscious of the world around him.  He was sprawled out on the couch, his limbs recently grown lanky with a growth spurt.

"How was your day, Toby?" she asked.

He didn't even look away from the TV.  "Fine."

"Did you do anything fun?"

"Nope."

"Not even—"

Toby's voice sounded slightly irritated, but his eyes never left the screen.  "Sarah, I'm trying to watch here."

She tightened her lips.  "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry," she said in an exaggerated tone.  "I was unaware that the king was busy.  I _do_ hope you'll forgive me, highness."  Sarah sketched a sarcastic bow and turned to leave the room.

"No, wait, Sarah."  She paused as he seemed to search for the right words.  "It's just...you're no fun to be around since you started grad school."

Sarah tried not to let her hurt show on her face, but she had never been good at hiding her feelings.  They were always right there for the entire world to see.  "I'm not fun? I may be working a lot of the time, but I'm still _me_, aren't I?"

Toby sighed, frustrated, his blue eyes finally leaving the TV screen.  "Either you're working on your thesis thing, or you ask me questions that sound just like my mom.  You never just sit and watch TV with me anymore, or even tell me stories."

Sarah brushed wisps of her hair that had escaped from her braid out of her eyes as she walked over to the couch to sit with him.  "I thought you were getting a little old for my stories," she said gently.  "You're going to be thirteen soon.  What thirteen year old boy wants bedtime stories from his big sister?"  Toby was sullenly silent.  If he said he did, it would make him seem like a baby, but he couldn't say he didn't, since he'd brought them up in the first place.

"It's just..." he finally tried.  "Well, I mean, your stories were _good_.  Dragons and cunning knights and... I mean, good stuff.  Stuff that I wish..." he trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck.

Sarah stared straight ahead, giving him time to compose himself.  It felt like this was as honest as he'd been with her since he had turned ten and decided that he was too cool for his big sister.  After a minute, she asked, "How's school? I mean, _really**, **_how's school?"

"It's fine," he said stiffly, slamming up his defenses again.  

He was lying and they both knew it, but Sarah didn't call him on it.  Instead she merely sighed and hoisted herself to her feet.  "Right, Toby.  It's fine.  Enjoy your TV."

As she walked from the room, he muttered something unintelligible about old battleaxes.  She didn't rise to the occasion – he'd inherited their father's temper too, and arguing with him was like slamming up against a brick wall – but she did a little muttering of her own.

"Ungrateful little wretch.  After all I did for you."  And it had been a lot.  She tried not to think too deeply about her experience in the Labyrinth these days, but it wasn't easy.  It had been twelve years since she had rescued Toby, and though she had tried many times to convince herself that it hadn't really happened, she had never been able to.  Even her choices in life seemed to reflect what had happened to her: she had majored in psychology, and the thesis that ate up most of her time these days was on the role of fantasy in adolescent life.  Sarah tried not to let her own experiences color it, and thus far she had been successful.

In fact, she had never told anyone about the Labyrinth and all the creatures she had met inside it.  All these years, she had kept them locked close to her heart, especially Jareth.  Even though she had fought against him, he had been her first real crush, and she had thought about him a lot in the years that had followed, wondering what he had _really_ been offering her; wondering if, perhaps, she should have taken him up on his offer.

But the Labyrinth had changed her, no doubt about that.  She had learned about, well, everything, really.  Her father and her stepmother had remarked more than once after that night how mature she had grown, how calm and caring, how unselfish.  The changes wrought in her had been viewed happily by all, but Sarah hadn't been so happy.

For once she stepped out of the Labyrinth, she knew that her only true adventure was over, her hopes were dead, and all that was left for her to do was to become a sensible, productive member of society and lead an utterly normal life.  There was no room in this world for the unbridled craziness and shiftiness of the Labyrinth.  Here, if you turned a corner into a different room, the same room would still be waiting for you when you came back.  Heads here stayed firmly attached to bodies, and even punishments were less interesting, for surely _nothing_ could rival The Bog of Eternal Stench.

She had cried at night a few times within the months following, inwardly miserable.  Then she had started wearing makeup and going to the mall with other girls from school, and Will from the football team had asked her out, and her fantasies of old had been lost to the world of jewelry and music and late-night make-out sessions in Will's parents' basement.  She had become utterly normal, as much as anyone could ever have hoped... or feared.  The only trace of the old Sarah that was left was in the bedtime stories she had told her little brother as he became a toddler, than a child.  Though she had wanted to, she never told him the story of the Labyrinth.

Sarah stepped into her room and closed the door.  Every time she came home, she knew what she would find in her room, but she didn't particularly like it.  Gone were the M.C. Escher prints she had loved, gone were the music boxes and the children's books and all of her stuffed animals.  She had thrown all of that into boxes when she was sixteen and had done a full redecoration of her room.  Instead, the walls were graced with pictures of her favorite rock stars at the time, teen idols, and the room was overflowing with makeup, the closet crammed with loud, daring clothes.

In fact, she could only think of one of her cherished possessions that had escaped the ignominious fate of being banished to a cardboard box or a garbage bag: Sir Lancelot.  A small smile touched her lips when she remembered giving it to Toby, how little and vulnerable he had been, and really, how cute.  As it had been one of her prized belongings, so it became one of his.  In fact, unless she remembered incorrectly, he still slept with Sir Lancelot, though he would likely hotly deny it.  It had been close to a whole year since she had spent any substantial time at home, and much could have changed in that time.

Suddenly seized with an urge to see the good old bear again, she quietly opened her door and snuck down the hall to Toby's room.  Her lip curled involuntarily at the sight of his room.  It appeared that he had not escaped the family tendency to be a bit of a sloppy packrat.  His floor was littered with dirty clothes, books, even plates, his desk with old papers written in messy handwriting and pens with no ink left, half of his posters were falling off the walls, and his blankets were little more than a crumpled mass.  Hoping that nothing would bite her, she plunged her hands into the covers and felt around for Sir Lancelot's soft, plush body.

Aha! Her groping hands closed around something solid.  Sarah quickly pulled her hands out of Toby's blankets, feeling unaccountably guilty.  However, what she held tightly wasn't Sir Lancelot.  It was a small book with a leather cover and a pen tucked into the pages.  The cover was embossed with a picture of a knight charging a dragon as a magician with a crystal ball cackled in the background.

Clearly, it was something personal, and Sarah knew very well that she should put it back.  She started to push it back in between the covers, then paused, remembering the story she had written when she was just a little older than Toby in a book not too different from this one: a tale of a princess on a quest to retrieve a stolen child from the King of the Goblins.  Her prose had been purple, but how she had loved that story: _"Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here, to the castle that lies beyond the Goblin city, to take back the child that you have stolen.  For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great... You have no power over me..."_  She had been so proud when she finished that story, desperately wanting someone to show it to, but knowing that her stepmother would only look at her strangely and her father didn't have time.  Sarah had hoped, knowing that it never could, that something like that would happen to her.  And then it had.

Not even quite sure why, she cautiously flipped through the pages, not actually reading any of it.  They were covered with a beautiful, flowing, almost feminine hand, so different than the handwriting on all of his homework papers.  The book turned out to be three-fourths full of the flowing hand, covering each side of each page.

She paused on the last page that had writing on it.  It was dated two days before, and the handwriting was not quite as flowing as it had been.  It was smaller, cramped, shakier.  Almost against her will, Sarah began to read.

_They found me after school again.  This time it was Tom and Eddie and Max and Jack.  They pushed me into an alley, and three of them held me down while Eddie hit me and called me a fairy.  Just because I like to write and read about stuff that doesn't exist doesn't make me a fairy, right? I haven't even done that at school in a long time, not in a year or two.  They never forget, even though I try to act like I'm like them.  But I couldn't get away from them, and now I've got a black eye.  I'm wondering how much longer it's going to take before Mom notices that some of her makeup is missing.  Not that I want to wear makeup, that just makes things worse, but it keeps Mom and Dad from noticing the bruises.  Anyway, I think that maybe I should take a break from all this.  It's all a fantasy, and it's not getting me any friends.  Maybe I'll watch some sports.  Other guys like sports—_

"Hey!"

Sarah's head snapped up guiltily, to face Toby, who was standing in the doorway, looking stricken.

"Toby," she said, ashamed, quickly dropping the book.

"What do you _think_ you're _doing_?"

"I came in here to find Sir Lancelot..."  Idiot excuses.  She hung her head.

"You came in here for a teddy bear and ended up reading _my personal stuff_!"

"I'm sorry," Sarah said.  "You're right, there's no excuse, I'm sorry."

As she hung there, feeling horrible, knowing that she had betrayed her little brother's trust, Toby dove to the ground and grabbed the book, clutching it to his chest.  "You had no right," he whispered, sounding on the verge of tears.  "You had no right."

"I know."  Sarah sighed and sat down on the bed.  He looked up at her, his lips quivering.  She looked down at him as if seeing him for the first time: the long limbs that seemed to be growing faster than he was, the uncontrollable reddish curls, the light blue eyes, and the face that, while longer and thinner, was not all that different than the round baby-face she had jumped off a ledge for.  

Remembering what she had read of his thoughts, Sarah stretched out a hesitant hand and touched the skin beneath one of his eyes.  He sucked in a pained breath and attempted to pull away, but not before she had wiped away concealer, revealing part of a bluish bruise.

"Sarah!" he cried out, sounding truly outraged this time.  "_Stop_ it!"

She didn't bother to apologize.  "So school's going fine, is it?"

"Get out of my room!" he yelled, turning his head away from her.  

Sarah didn't move.  If there was one thing she remembered about being his age, it was that leaving someone alone to sulk usually only made things worse, as the offended went over the offense in his or her head and became more and more resentful.  

"Look, Toby," she said, as calmly as she could, "While Mom and Dad are out of town, I'm the only person around here to talk to.  I'm _sorry_ that I read your book; I promise you I am.  But you're getting beaten up in school, aren't you? Maybe I could help.  I _want_ to help, but I can't unless you let me."

Toby's only response was to reach under the bed and hand her an old and tattered Sir Lancelot.  "Here's your damn bear," he whispered.  "Now leave me alone."

"No."

He wiped a shaking arm across his face, making it obvious that he was literally about to start crying.  "P—please?"

Sarah scooted down to the floor to sit next to him and placed Sir Lancelot on the floor.  "What kind of a big sister would I be if I did that, huh?"  She put her arms around him, half afraid that he'd slap her hands away, but he didn't.  "Please tell me?"

That did it.  Though he tried not to, though he tried to act tough, tears began to slide down his face: one, then another and another.  Before long, he was sitting there, sobbing, with a small leather book grasped to his chest.

If only Merlin were still alive, Sarah wished.  He'd hear the noise, come into the room, and start licking Toby's face, as the old sheepdog had always done for her.  It was hard to stay truly unhappy with Merlin's big, sloppy, eager tongue all over her face.  But Merlin had died about four years before, and she certainly couldn't start licking her brother's face.

Instead, she just sat there with him silently, hoping she was doing the right thing.  It seemed like an eternity before the tears began to slow, though it had really probably only been a few minutes.  He drew in a shuddering breath and again wiped his arm across his flushed face.

"It's...really your fault," he said breathlessly.  "If you hadn't t—told me all of those stories, and made me want—want all of that stuff, I'd be just like all the r—rest of them."

"Toby," Sarah said, not wanting to be cruel, but knowing that if he didn't get straightened out quickly, he would be in for some trouble later on, "they were only stories.  The dragons and wizards and unicorns? None of them were ever real."

"I _know_.  B—but they _should _be," Toby replied fiercely.  "And all the guys at school _laugh _at me, and, and, and they—"

"I know," Sarah said, gentler this time.  "It's all right.  You don't need to tell me.  I think I understand what they do."

"_She_ does too," he said quietly and quickly, almost as though he was hoping she hadn't heard it.

But, of course, she had.  "_She_? Who's 'she'?"

"No one.  Just a girl."  He stared away.

"You brought it up, Toby."  Sarah leaned her head against the mattress behind them.

"Anna," he said reluctantly, his flushed cheeks growing even more reddened.  "She's, um, a girl from school."  He looked at her as though hoping she wouldn't make him say anymore, but when he continued, it was of his own accord.  "She's really pretty.  She's got these big grey eyes and long hair.  I told her something, and she's... she's acted like the rest of them ever since." He sniffled slightly.

"What did you tell her?" Sarah asked, curious, despite her attempts to simply let Toby talk.

"Something I never even told you."  Toby struggled to his feet and looked at himself in the mirror above his dresser.  "Just a, um, a dream I had, really."

"A _dream_?" she repeated, chagrined, pulling her arms away.  "Uh, maybe Dad never told you this, but it's not a good thing to tell a girl about _that_ kind of dream, especially a twelve-year-old girl."

"Huh?" he said, uncomprehendingly.  "What are you—Ohhh..." She wouldn't have thought it possible, but his face got even redder.  "I wasn't talking about that kind of thing," he mumbled.  "It was just this one dream that I've had a whole bunch of times."  Sarah drew her knees up to her chest, relieved.  She hadn't particularly wanted to discuss wet dreams with her little brother.  "It's kind of a weird dream."

"Aren't they all?"  The both of them giggled a bit nervously, but Toby sobered up quickly, and continued.

"In my dream, I'm in this castle – It's a _huge_ castle, a really enormous place – and I'm crawling around this room.  I don't know why I'm crawling, but I just am.  Anyway, this room has staircases all over it—going up, going down, sideways, upside down, and I just crawl all over this room, going upside down and sideways, and all of it.  There's a feeling of – like, 'hurry, hurry'.  There are little crystal balls, and there are two _huge_ people walking or running around the room.  Anyway, that's what the whole dream is, just me crawling around, but somehow it's really scary.  I've been having it for as long as I can remember."

Now it was Sarah's turn to stare fixedly at the floor.  She knew exactly what his dream meant, because it wasn't a dream.  It was a memory.  The two huge people had been Jareth and herself, and Toby only thought they were huge because he had been so small at the time.

"How about that..." she whispered.

"I told Anna, and she just looked at me funny, and now she laughs at me with the rest of the guys."  He hung his head.

"Why did you tell her?"

"Because I thought she was _different_ than the rest of them.  She was always nice to me.  We were talking one day at recess about a social studies assignment, and I ran out of things to say, but I wanted to keep talking to her, you know?"  He looked at her, almost pleadingly.

Sarah understood.  "I wasn't your age all _that_ long ago, Toby.  I know what you mean.  So you told her about your dream, and she didn't understand why a boy would talk about dreams when he's supposed to be tough?"  She swallowed nervously, having suddenly noticed a white owl sitting quietly in a tree outside.

"Yeah.  That's it exactly."  He stared at the floor.  "I had thought that she'd understand me.  I wish—" Sarah's head snapped up.

"Toby—" she tried to warn.

"I wish that—"

"Toby, _don't!_"

"I wish that she would be in some sort of trouble, and I could save her, like a knight and a damsel," he blurted out.

This time, though, he had no time to blush, as a big flash of lightning illuminated the house.  They both yelped and Sarah instinctively threw her arms around Toby protectively, wondering when on earth it had started raining.  Before there was time to say anything, though, there was a crack of thunder that rattled the house in its foundations, the lights all went off, and the windows flew open with a bang.


	2. two

Toby and Sarah huddled together in the semi-darkness.  As they both glanced around the room, they both became aware of something that neither of them mentioned, in hopes that it wasn't real.  That "something" was the figure of the man standing arrogantly in the center of Toby's room.

He was dressed all in tight black leather, expensive looking boots, and wisps of darkly glittering black veils that passed for some sort of cape, fluttering in the wind from the open window.  His face was proud, with a smile that showed sharp teeth, high cheekbones, and eyes – one green, one brown – that were accented by some sort of upswept dark makeup.  As for his hair, that was nearly indescribable; it was mostly blond and mostly short, but some locks were blue and some locks hung down longer over his black collar.  He was a proud, strangely handsome figure of a man, if somewhat intimidating.

And he hadn't changed at all since Sarah had last seen him.

There was a long moment of silence, and then finally Toby whispered.  "S—Sarah? Who's he?"

As the man took a step forward, his boot landed squarely on a piece of paper that crumpled under his feet.  He looked down in disgust, and Sarah fought back an absurd giggle.  "Someone who's used to more flawless entrances, Toby."

Jareth didn't even spare her a single glance, though.  His intense eyes were focused on Toby.  His smug voice filled the room.  "Do you know who I am?"

"N—no," Toby whispered.  Sarah could feel him shaking.  She could see that the king was just going to stand there, smiling arrogantly, so she spoke quietly.

"He's Jareth.  He's the Goblin King."  She would have said more, but Jareth's eyes fixed on her in disapproval, a warning clear in them.  So after that, she remained silent, staring at Jareth in disbelief and wonder.

"Jareth? That name sounds...familiar," Toby said, still scared, but now wondering.

"King Jareth to you, boy," Jareth said.  "But sadly, unlike your sister here," a careless nod in Sarah's direction, "you don't know anything about me."

"What are you doing here?" Toby slowly wriggled out of Sarah's arms.

"What am _I_ doing here? I go where I wish, boy."  Jareth chuckled slightly, a deep, rich sound.  "But in this case, I'm here because there's a girl in my castle right now, a young lady who's most terrified, and you expressed a wish to save her."

"What?" Toby stared in disbelief.  "A girl—a wish?"  Jareth merely smiled as realization dawned.  "A—Anna?" 

"Is that her name? Yes, I do believe so."

"You did something to Anna?" Toby's blank face began to grown angry.  "You kidnapped her?"

"Please, please."  Jareth held his hands up to silence Toby.  "'Kidnapping' is such a harsh word.  I prefer to think that I merely borrowed her."

"Bring her back!" Toby said angrily.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, boy.  If I started returning people of my own free will, it would imply that I regretted it."  He shook his head in mock sadness.  "No, boy, if she's to leave, someone would have to have the courage to come save her.  Sadly, I don't think you're up to the task."

Jareth seemed to turn to leave, but paused at Toby's shouted, "_Wait!_"  He turned slightly, showing a smirking profile.  "Wait," Toby said again.  "You would just... keep her there?"

"Of course."

"But that's _wrong_ to keep a girl hostage!"

"She wouldn't be a girl forever, now would she?" Jareth _tsk_ed.  "Perhaps I should have mentioned.  Those humans I take... Well, they don't stay human.  Eventually they turn into goblins and join their new brothers.  Always a _shame_ when that happens," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy as Toby's eyes grew round.  "It seems that their loved ones simply could not be depended upon to save them."

"Won't—won't one of her family save her, then?" Toby asked desperately.

One side of Jareth's mouth tipped up meanly.  "I'm afraid not.  You made the wish."

"_I_ have to go save her?"

Jareth examined one of his gloves.  "Wouldn't that just be a bother? Wouldn't you rather have something else?"

"Nothing!" Toby declared proudly, sticking his chin up.

"Not even _this_?"  Jareth held up a small crystal ball.  Sarah, who'd been staring at him unabashedly this whole time, suddenly felt the need to look away.

"What is it?" asked Toby uncertainly.

Jareth tossed the small ball to Toby, and when the boy caught it in his long fingers, it was a small composition book, much like the one Toby already had, except this one was black with wicked-looking designs on the cover.

"A _book_?" the boy asked incredulously.  "I already have one, thanks.  Anna's more important!"

"That's not just _any_ book," Jareth said softly.  "It's special.  Whatever you write about in it, be it knights or dragons or wizards, it will come true."

"It will come true?" Toby repeated wonderingly, as he turned the book over and over in his hands, clearly itching to write something in it.  He opened it and flipped through it, his mouth pursed in perusal.

Not once so far had Sarah been so desperate to say something as she was now.  She'd been through this before and she knew very well what Jareth was doing – So should Toby, and if he didn't already, she needed to tell him.  As she opened her mouth, the silent warning appeared in Jareth's eyes again, and she closed her mouth again slowly, somehow knowing that everything would go all the more badly if she interfered.

All the same, she had never been as proud of Toby as when, clearly reluctant, he forced his fingers to open and drop the book.  It vanished without a sound before it even hit the floor, as Sarah had known it would.

"I'll take Anna over the book, thanks," Toby said clearly.

"Are you _sure_?" Jareth said forebodingly.  "It's very dangerous."

"I'm sure.  Where is she?"

"She's there."  Jareth pointed off into the distance.  Sarah and Toby looked around in astonishment.  Somehow, the world around them had changed and they hadn't even noticed.

Gone was Toby's dark room with its crumpled pages and dirty laundry.  They were standing outside in a place that seemed to be bathed by a dusty yellow sun.  Dead trees littered the landscape around them... and in front of them...

Oh, in front of them lay a huge structure, stretching across what must have been several miles with the dusky sky behind it: mazes within mazes within mazes, swamps, forests, and at the middle of it all, a city with a towering castle.

Sarah knew it all.  She had seen it before, and unlike Toby, she could put a name to it: The Labyrinth.  It had nearly claimed her brother twelve years before, and it would have, but for the fact that she had fought through it, fought harder than she ever had before.  It—and its king too—had nearly claimed her as well, she thought darkly, remembering the ballroom within the bubble, and the handsome king who had whirled her around into the seductive dance, staring deep into her eyes.

Involuntarily, she turned to look at Jareth, and found him looking back at her, his face a mixture of both astonishment and... disapproval? She drew in a deep breath through her nose.  Considering what he'd wanted of her last time, she would have thought that he would be at least _interested_ in seeing her again.  Well, despite the fact that she had refused his offer and beaten him, reclaiming her brother, that is.  But he'd not even spoken one word to her.  That made her feel slightly put-out, which in itself, made her confused as to why she felt that way.  Jareth wasn't a good man—He wasn't even a _man_! Or at least she didn't think he was.

His eyes held hers captive until Toby said, awed, "What _is_ that?"

"It's my Labyrinth, boy," the king said proudly, his eyes easily sliding away from Sarah's, "and you have exactly twenty-four hours to get through it before your dear little girl finds that the life of a goblin is not all that bad."

Toby turned, frustrated, apparently to ask one more question, but Jareth was already gone.  Only Sarah stood there, her heart beating irregularly through her black tank-top.

"Sarah?" Toby asked hesitantly, his anger fading.  "Is this... Is all this real?"

She blinked a few times, trying to gather her thoughts.  "It's real all right, Toby.  It's real."  Sarah's eyes wandered to the Labyrinth again.  She was back.  She had never thought she'd be back, ever, and yet here she was! Despite herself, a small pulse of excitement beat through her at the thought.  All of her old friends were probably still here—Little Sir Didymus and his cowardly dog Ambrosius, the sweet monster Ludo, maybe even Hoggle, the first creature she'd met here, the small goblin who turned out to have a very big heart.  Heck, she'd even be happy to see the Fierys again, despite the fact that they had wanted to pull her head off and play games with it.  With an effort, she wrenched her thoughts back to the task at hand.  "It's real," she said again.  "And if we want to save Anna, we'd better hurry, hadn't we?"

He smiled at her, but it was a small smile, nervous.  She didn't want to tell him that she'd been here before, but she was totally confident that they'd rescue the girl.  After all, Jareth had given Toby almost twice the time he'd given her the first time, and she already knew the tricks of the Labyrinth.  Though she knew that this attitude was precisely what had gotten her into trouble in the first place, Sarah couldn't help thinking that this rescue mission would be a piece of cake.

"Sarah?" Toby asked again.  "How'd you get here too?"

"Huh?"

"Didn't that guy—the king—didn't he say that _I_ was the only one who could rescue Anna? So how'd you get here too?"

She shrugged slightly. "Beats me, Toby.  Maybe he decided to take pity and give you a companion for moral support?"  Inwardly, though, she laughed.  Jareth must have grown soft over the years.  This wouldn't even be a race against time; it would be a leisurely stroll.  Somehow, though, that disappointed her.  Though it had been terrifying last time—Had it ever been exciting! What was the point of being here if it wasn't even exciting? She shrugged again.  Jareth _must_ have something up his sleeve, since he hadn't seemed to have changed at all.  Not even physically.  He looked exactly the same as he had the day he'd kidnapped her baby brother.  He was definitely as exotically handsome as ever, even if the slight lines around his eyes denoted malice instead of smiles.  

But this train of thought was beginning to disturb her.  To keep herself busy as she and Toby walked down to the small garden in front of the massive walls of the Labyrinth, she thought about her boyfriend back at home.  Though she and Will the football player had long since broken up, there had never been a dearth of men in her life; they had all been drawn to her long, thick brown hair, her pert nose, big dark eyes, and slender figure.  Not all of the men had stuck around for very long, nor had she wanted them to.  Ever since right before her graduation from college, however, she had been seeing a man named Brian.  She conjured up his image in front of her: tow-headed, muscular, glasses in front of light green eyes, and a ready smile.  He was not only good-looking, he was incredibly smart, and he loved her.  Only the night before, he had given her a gorgeous rose.  It hadn't been for any special occasion, it was simply that he felt like it had been too long since he'd let her know how wonderful she was.  Though she hadn't quite agreed with that, she had been happy to accept the rose from him, along with a night alone together.

Yeah, Brian was a terrific guy.  When this was over, Sarah promised herself, she'd make sure that he knew that she thought so.

The garden was exactly how she remembered: little dusty ponds and small plots filled with little dusty plants, all orange-tinted.  Everything was so _orange_.  Even the small fairies flying around the plants growing next to the walls of the Labyrinth weren't pure white: the sun shone on their pale skin and turned it a rosy orange.

When she turned her head, she noticed Toby beside her, staring at the fairies with an enchanted look on his face.  She understood the feeling.  Though everything that had happened so far had been real, actually seeing these small, delicate creatures somehow made it all _seem_ real.  They weren't exactly a bad first impression to get of the Labyrinth, though he would likely be disgusted at the sheer ugliness of many of the creatures within.  As she watched, a small fairy noticed Toby.  It landed gracefully on a wilted flower, tossing its hair back prettily, smoothing its transparent garment.  Sarah looked at it disbelievingly.  It was _flirting_ with Toby.  As she watched the small creature simper, giggling in a voice so small it could barely be heard, and preen for her little brother, she felt a sudden spark of jealousy.  Though it was tiny, it was beautiful, and it certainly knew how to use that to its best advantage.  Sarah was no slouch herself – in fact, she was considered very beautiful – but next to this small, lithe creature, she felt like a great, hulking nobody.  It was a feeling that was only reinforced when Toby reached out a captivated hand to touch the fairy, giggling behind its tiny hands.

"Don't, Toby," she said sharply.  "They bite."

He froze, his hand barely an inch from the beckoning creature.  "No way, Sarah."

"You'd better believe it," she confirmed.

Toby blinked.  "How would _you_ know whether it bites or not?"  As her mouth gaped, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't really explain anything at all, Toby held his palm out flat, and the little fairy hopped nimbly onto it.  Sarah braced herself, waiting for the cry of "_ouch!_" and for the fairy to go tumbling to the ground, a malicious smile on its little face.  

But it didn't happen.  Instead, the little creature preened a bit more in Toby's wide palm, then sat down on the edge of his hand, little slender legs dangling, swinging happily as it smiled a sweet little smile.  Both he and Sarah leaned over the little figure, mouths open in astonishment, though for slightly different reasons.

"It bites, you say?" Toby said happily.  

Sarah could only shrug helplessly.  Maybe things _had_ changed.  A memory ran through her, glazing her eyes with tears, though she didn't know why.  

_"Ouch!"  _

_"What?"  _

_"It bit me!"_

_"Well, what did you expect fairies to do?"_

_"I... I thought they'd do nice things – like grant wishes..."_

_"Shows how much you know, don't it?"_

She glanced around, hoping that Hoggle's stumpy form would appear from behind a plant, but for as far as she could see, there was only Toby, the small fairy in his hand, and herself.  As she looked around in disappointment, the fairy hopped to her feet, beat her wings a few times, and dropped of the edge of Toby's slightly trembling hand.  A keen cry of disappointment was torn from his throat, but it was cut short as the fairy rode a soft breeze and settled again, sitting firmly on his shoulder.

A smile of delight touched his face.  "I think she wants to go with me," he whispered.  Then he spoke to the fairy.  "Do you want that? Do you want to go with me?"  The only response he got was a small kiss against his cheek, but that was enough.  "How about that?" he smiled at Sarah.  "She wants to go with me."

"Sure, Toby," she replied, unaccountably depressed.  "I don't see why not.  We'd better get started."

"Okay..." he glanced around.  "So where's the door to this thing?"

Sarah glanced around as well, expecting to see the large wooden door nearby, but on both sides, it was unbroken wall, as far as the eye could see.  Last time, she'd had Hoggle to point the way for her.

Hoping that the fairy could be as helpful as Hoggle had been (if somewhat reluctantly), she bent over close to it and said gently, "Fairy, where is the door? How can we get into the Labyrinth?"

The small creature would not talk directly to her, but instead chattered into Toby's ear.  Sarah looked at Toby.

"She says that her name is Chiaro, not 'fairy,'" he said to Sarah, as the fairy kept whispering to him.  He frowned slightly as he listened.  "She also says that there's no door."

"No _door_?!" Sarah exclaimed.  "Of course there's a door! There has to be a door."

"Nope, no door.  But," Toby said slowly, listening to Chiaro, "we can climb."

"Climb? What do you mean, climb?"  Sarah gestured to the wall, frustrated.  "Look at that.  It's totally smooth.  How can we climb?"

He nodded to a spot on his left.  "We can climb that tree."

"_Tree_?!"  Her head swung to the spot he had indicated.  Though she could have sworn that there had been nothing there before, there was now a large tree with sturdy branches, flush up against the wall of the Labyrinth.  She had let it slip her mind how quickly things changed in the Labyrinth, changing even as you looked at them.  "A tree," she repeated.

Toby looked Sarah directly in the eye for the first time since right after Jareth had disappeared.  "Will you be okay? I mean, you're not exactly an athlete, and I don't know if you've ever climbed a tree."

She shrugged.  "Why not? _You're _not an athlete either.  I'm not a total priss, Toby.  Let's go."

They walked over to the tree, Chiaro snuggled firmly against Toby's cheek.  With a grunt, Toby pulled himself up to the first set of branches, his slender arms shaking with the effort.  Sarah stood below, trying not to stretch her arms out beneath him in case he fell.

"Are you doing ok?" she called up to him as he passed the halfway point.

"Yeah," he called back, though his breathing was slightly labored.  "I haven't climbed a tree in a long time, but I'm doing okay."

Finally, he stood on top of the wall with a wide grin, the little fairy hugging his face.  "Come on up, Sarah.  It doesn't look like it's too far down to the other side."

She sighed.  "Okay..."  As she reached out to grab the lowest branch, there was a sudden _crack,_ and a branch from much higher up on the tree separated itself from the rest of the tree and began to crash towards the ground, with Sarah right under it.  Toby let out a yelp of warning, then lost his balance and fell backwards.

As it hit other branches on the way down, Sarah threw her hands over her head and fell to the ground, curling up protectively, tensing for the impact.  She held her breath, but the expected impact never came.  Slowly, she opened her clenched eyes and peered upwards.  Then she sat straight up, staring wide-eyed.

The branch was gone, as if it had never been... as was the tree.  Where it had been, there was simply a small plot of plants.  She let out a shaking breath.

"Sarah? Sarah?!"  She became aware of Toby's panicked cries from the other side of the wall.  

"Toby," she managed to call back.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Are _you_ all right?"

"Yes, I'm okay.  I mean," he coughed, "I landed on my butt, and it hurts, but it was only five or six feet down."  She sighed, relieved.  "Can you still climb, Sarah?"

"Um..." she glanced around, hoping that it would reappear.  "The tree's gone."

"What do you mean, _gone_?"

"It's disappeared.  There's only wall now, Toby."

"How could that be?" He sounded confused and suddenly scared.

"That's the way things _are_ here," she called to him.  "Everything keeps changing."

"But that's not _fair_!" he yelled back.

"Lots of things aren't fair."  She sighed.  "Toby, just go on without me, all right?"

"I can't do this without you, Sarah!"

Sarah bit her lip.  "Sure you can! Look, Toby, I... I..." She trailed off.  There was a waiting silence on the other side.  The time had come.  "I went through the Labyrinth when I was only a little older than you are now."

"_What?"_ His shock was evident.

"There's no time to explain it now, but I did, okay? I went through the Labyrinth to save _you._  If I could do it, you can, all right? Go on without me, please!"

"To save _me_?"

"Yes! Look, you were just a baby, all right? I'll explain when all this is over.  _Go!_"

"But... what are you going to do?"

She stared at the ground, not wanting him to know that she didn't know either.  "I'll be fine! Toby, it's _your_ time.  Please, hurry."

He was silent for a moment.  "Okay, Sarah, as soon as I've gotten Anna, I'll come straight back here and get you, all right?"

"Yeah," she called to him.  "Good luck, Toby!"

There was no reply.  Sarah listened closely, and managed to hear the sound of his sneakered feet moving away quickly.  With a sigh, she slumped against the wall, staring at her feet, not sure what to do... if there was anything she could do.  

Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she glanced up reluctantly, stifling a shriek of surprise.  

Jareth was standing right in front of her, his arms folded across his chest, staring her straight in the eye.  He looked furious.

"What the bloody hell," he snapped, "are _you_ doing here?"


	3. three

Sarah opened and closed her mouth several times, hoping that she would think of something to say... or that Jareth would disappear in a poof of smoke.  Sadly, neither of those events occurred.  Her mind remained a complete and utter blank, and Jareth still stood there, staring down at her with a perfect blend of arrogance and disdain.

She had a feeling that she might very well have remained there for all eternity had he not apparently decided to take pity on her and speak again.

"My kingdom does not accept repeat offenders, much less people like you.  So what _are_ you doing here?" He cocked an insolent eyebrow and tapped his foot.

Absurdly, Sarah smirked, though the corner of her mouth trembled slightly.  "You realize that the only way you could look more like my first grade teacher is if you put on a dowdy dress, right?"

He merely blinked.  "Answer the question."

"A pair of heavy-duty stockings and some ugly lipstick would help too."

"You are much less amusing than you used to be." 

"Ouch.  Really.  Because, of course, I base my self-image on what you think of me, Jareth, despite the fact that I haven't seen you in twelve years."  She glared at him.  "So if you're going to tell me that I'm less amusing than I used to be, I could very well tell you that the stick up your ass is much larger than it used to be."

He chuckled, though the sound carried very little humor in it.  "Heaven protect me from embittered spinsters who seem to think that I owe them something."

"You don't owe me a thing," Sarah replied heatedly.  Setting her chin stubbornly, she stumbled to her feet and looked him squarely in the eye.  _I'm as tall as he is_, she thought inanely.  He seemed to notice it too, because he cast a disdainful glance at their feet.  "Not a thing," she repeated, trying to keep her voice from cracking, "so whatever you're going to do to me, you might as well get it over with, and it'd be nice if you could do that without calling me an embittered spinster!"

"_Do_ to you?" Jareth asked, a note of amazement in his voice.  He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich, sonorous sound.  "My dear young lady," he continued, every word dripping with sarcasm, "I would like nothing better than to pack you off back to where you came from and let your brother finish his quest uninterrupted."

Despite Sarah's bold words, his barbed words were starting to sting.  "Then why _don't_ you?" she exclaimed.  "As fun as it must be to stand here and insult me, I'm sure you have much more _valuable_ things to do with your time, Your _Highness_."  She sketched a mocking bow and was satisfied to see his lips purse.

"Because I can't," he bit off.  "Once someone is drawn to the Labyrinth, they cannot leave until the quest is completed."

"So I'm stuck sitting here until Toby rescues Anna?"

"Is that the young lady's name?" he asked indifferently.

"You bastard," she whispered.  "You enjoy this, don't you?"

"Beg pardon?"

"You steal people and you enjoy it!" She sighed in irritation.  "At least when you stole Toby, he was young enough that he didn't know what was going on."  _For the most part, _she mentally amended.  

"Indeed," Jareth said calmly.  "In fact, I got the impression that the little tyke was quite enjoying himself."

"What about Anna? Is _she_ enjoying herself?"

"Is that really my problem?"

"Of course it is," she hissed.  "You're the one behind this whole mess.  You always are."

For the first time, she heard what might have been a tone of frustration in his voice.  "Me, me, me.  You always think it's all me, don't you?"

"_Isn't_ it?"

"Did I make the wish, Sarah? Did I wish that the young lady was in some sort of trouble? For that matter, did I wish that you didn't have to deal with your brat of a baby brother anymore?" He snorted.  "At least your wish was specific.  'Some sort of trouble'? Your brother should consider himself lucky that I chose to interpret that in a fairly harmless way."

"_You_ chose.  _You_."

"But he wished it."

"Listen, I don't know what exactly you are, you pompous, overbearing..." She took a deep breath.  "...but I do know humans.  We don't make wishes like that...not true, honest wishes.  We say things that we don't mean.  Do you think that I _really_ wanted my baby brother to disappear? I was immature and I just wanted to not have to take care of him.  But had I even the slightest thought that it might actually happen—"

"You would still have made the exact same wish," he interrupted smoothly.

"You're ridiculous."

"Am I? You may not have wanted to get rid of your brother, but you definitely wanted a bit of adventure, and I gave you that, didn't I?"

He was close to striking a nerve, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.  After a moment's hesitation, she said, "All that aside, we seem to be standing here arguing like children.  Could we possibly engage in something more productive?"

"Productive?" Jareth shaped the word with his mouth as though it were an utterly foreign term to him.  "Now, where would the fun in that be, hmmmm?" 

"Productivity isn't supposed to be fun."  She tucked hair back into her braid and fixed him with a stern stare.  "If it were fun, it wouldn't be productive.  Now the way I see it, we have three options." She held up a slender hand and held up her fingers one at a time.  "You can deliver me to my brother and let me help him.  You can take me home.  You can release Anna, take the three of us back to our world, and end this farce."

"I don't like any of those options," he sniffed haughtily.

"Weren't you the one who told me that life isn't fair?"

"I believe I was merely sick of listening to you whine and moan about how 'it's not fair'.  I pointed out – quite succinctly, if I do say so myself – that there really is no basis for comparison."

"The _point_ is that those are your options."

"I choose none of them."

She inhaled through her nose.  "Tell me, Jareth, is your petulance and childishness a result of any sort of latent sense of inadequacy? Were you, perhaps, not breast-fed?"

Jareth let out an utterly irritated sigh.  "This is why I hate you people.  Always analyzing, always probing, never content to just _be_."

"'Us people'?"

"_Adults_," he snapped.  "Normal, well-adjusted, mature, _grown-up_."

Sarah laughed in amazement.  "I'm twenty-six years old, Jareth.  I couldn't very well stay a child forever.  The years do tend to keep moving along, whether we want them to or not."

"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it quite well."  He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned in close to her.  Though she was determined to keep up her façade, his piercing green eye seemed to stare directly through her.  "And how long did you resist, Sarah? How long before you threw away your stuffed animals and your dreams?" His voice lowered till it was almost a whisper.  "How long was it before you were letting some oily-faced, muscle-and-hormone-bound teenage boy paw at you in his parents' basement?"

She drew in a shocked breath.  How could he have known?  When her voice finally emerged, it was little more than a hiss.  "You were watching."

A sardonic grin split his face.  "You think I offer every girl in the Labyrinth a chance to be my queen? I was really quite taken with your naiveté, and yes, I kept an eye on you for a while afterwards.  At least, until I was far too disgusted to watch any longer."

Sarah closed her eyes.  _Damn me, but you are quite the magnificent bastard, aren't you?_ Her heart was beginning to feel as though it would beat right through her ribcage.  The effect Jareth had had on her as a girl had been considerable, especially considering that she, in her innocence, hadn't really had a clue what he was offering to her.  And now... Now she was no longer a child.  Nor was she immune to the elegant man only inches in front of her, despite the fact that she did not like him one bit.  

Whenever she had thought of him during the last twelve years, she had always told herself that he had not been serious, that his offer of his heart had simply been the last of the tests she had to face to rescue Toby.  And now, to have him admit that he had truly been prepared to be hers, had she wanted to be his – and not just that, but that he had watched her afterwards... An image flashed in her mind of a white owl sitting outside her window as she slept, unmoving, unchanging.

She swallowed hard.  There was only one way to respond to his admission.  Sarah cleared her throat and asked in her pleasantest voice, "Tell me, Jareth, are you often attracted to girls who are really far too young for you? Now, where I come from, we call that the Lolita Complex.  You shouldn't be ashamed to admit it – a surprising number of men suffer from it.  Seeing as how you reside in a land filled with hideous goblins and you can only see real women from outside their windows, I suppose it's not much of a surprise that you would develop in a...shall we say, wayward fashion—"

Her voice was abruptly cut of by Jareth's shout of frustration. "Talk, talk, talk, that's all you ever do, isn't it? Good _god_, I can't even describe how grateful I am that you didn't choose to stay here.  I would have long since been driven insane."

"Pompous ass," she muttered.

"It had nothing to do with your age," he said flatly.  "You believed in a way that few believed.  Your body—while very nice, of course—was a bit too underdeveloped to truly tempt me."  Jareth held up a gloved hand to forestall her enraged sputtering.  "What I liked was up _here_."  He touched her forehead with a single finger.  "I also liked what was _here_," he indicated her heart, "but were I to point to your chest, you seem to be the high-strung type who would object."  A smug grin lit his face.  "Now, inasmuch as I can't just leave you here to rot—"

"I wouldn't rot in twenty-four hours."

"—Assuming that your brother succeeds, that is.  I can't just leave you here, even though your bleached skeleton would be quite an elegant addition to the landscape, don't you think? No?" She glared impotently.  "I'm afraid that I'll have to take you to my castle."

A bark of laughter escaped her.  "You could have said that to me twelve years ago and saved us both a lot of bother."

"I'll have to lock you into a single part of my castle," he mused.  "Can't have you escaping, can i?"

"Escaping?" she asked sarcastically.  "And where would I go?"

"To help your brother, of course."  He snorted.  "However, it's not even _where_ you go that is the problem.  It is the havoc you could cause that troubles me."

"I...don't understand."

"Let me spell it out in the simplest possible terms, then," he said dryly.  "My realm is a place of unlimited possibilities.  You are so well-ordered and practical that having you run freely wherever you wish could cause..." He rubbed his forehead as though imagining the consequences.  "Catastrophe.  You caused enough damage the last time you were here; unless you feel some sort of sadistic need to destroy more, you will do as I say for once."

"I'm _not _a sadist."

"Well then."  He grimaced.  "I dislike the whole idea, frankly, but I don't see another way to get around it.  You'll have a nice room or two to...organize, I suppose, while I sort out this whole mess you've managed to make."

"Oh, thank you _so_ much.  Don't do me any favors."

"Promise that you won't get any stupid ideas about leaving those rooms."

"No."  _Hell with that.  I don't care about your realm; if it'll help my little brother, I'll do whatever it takes._

"You're quite the annoyance." Jareth cleared his throat, while Sarah decided that she didn't much care for the smirk on his face.  He held up his hand, and counted off on his fingers.  "Here are your options.  Come back to my castle with the binding vow that you will not attempt to escape.  Or stay here, in which case I will forget about you the instant I leave here, and should your brother fail, that would be quite unfortunate for you, wouldn't it?"

"You're lying," she whispered.  "You wouldn't do that.  You watched me after I went home; you wouldn't just let me die."

"I wouldn't have let you die then.  Now, you're an _adult_ and nothing more than a danger.  It is out of respect for the girl you were that I make even this offer.  Take it or leave it."

Sarah swallowed nervously.  Though she didn't want to believe his words, his face was deadly serious.  "Well," she replied hesitantly, her voice hoarse to her ears, "if you put it that way, I suppose that I haven't really much of a choice."

"Then promise that you won't attempt to escape, and we'll be on our way."

She pursed her lips, but finally sighed and said, "Fine.  I promise that I won't attempt to escape.  Happy now?"

"No.  But it'll have to do.  Come on, let's go."

With an elegant flourish, he offered her his arm.  She felt utterly foolish, but after a moment's pause, she slipped her arm through his.  Disliking the intimacy of the gesture, she said roughly, "So are we walking the whole way to your castle, Jareth? Seems ridiculously inefficient, even for you."

He shook his head and muttered, "Inefficient.  Petulance.  Inadequacy.  Bloody grown-up words."

In the next instant, the word faded to white around her.  She could neither see nor hear anything.  All that was real, the only thing she knew for sure, was the comforting feel of someone else's arm wound through hers.  Not knowing which way was up or down, she clung to that single certainty gratefully.  

It was perhaps only a few seconds later that her senses began to return.  She blinked, the sudden sunlight piercing her eyes, and drew in a deep breath that was the sweetest breath she'd ever tasted.

A discreet cough sounded from her right side.  She glanced over, relishing the feel of the strands of hair brushing against her cheeks.  Jareth was standing there, an amused look on his face as he looked down at his arm.

His arm...to which both of her hands were desperately clinging.

Unaccountably ashamed of herself, Sarah immediately let go of him and stumbled several feet away.

"I do believe you left marks on my arm," Jareth remarked casually, brushing a crease from his immaculate sleeve.  "I hope they're not permanent."

"I was just surprised," Sarah muttered.  

He merely kept smirking.  

Determined to ignore him, she glanced around for the first time.  They were in a verdant garden.  Flowers grew everywhere and climbed up the marble walls visible in the distance.  Several feet away, a large round fountain with a statue of a mermaid bubbling water touched her with a light misty spray.

"Where are we?" she breathed.

"In my castle, of course."

Sarah laughed disbelievingly.  "Your castle? Look, I've _been_ in your castle.  I've been all over your entire kingdom and back, and I didn't see any place like _this_."

"Do you remember what I said about unlimited possibilities?"

"Yes...?"

He shook his head.  "Am I supposed to spell everything out for you? Use your imagination.  You used to have one."

"I'll have you know I—" she began indignantly, but he cut her off with a careless wave of his arm.

"Your rooms are through there.  I have business to attend to.  I'll check back on you in a while.  And don't..." He sighed, as though it were already a lost cause.  "..._Please_ don't do anything stupid."

Before she could begin to fashion a retort, he was gone.

Sarah looked around, only now beginning to really comprehend that this wasn't some longing dream or feverish imagining.  This was real.  She was back in the Labyrinth.

"Where are you, Hoggle? Didymus?" She smiled sadly.  "Didn't you all say 'should you need us'? Well, I need you.  I need all of you..."

She waited, holding her breath, hoping against hope that she would hear Hoggle's gravelly voice saying, "Why didn't you _say_ so?" 

Birds sang in the distance and a bee—or at least she hoped it was a bee—buzzed somewhere nearby, but no matter how long she waited, there was no sound, and she had to accept that she really was truly and completely alone in this strange room, in this strange land where she no longer belonged.

"Toby?" she whispered.  "Toby, please hurry..."


	4. four

It was a beautiful garden; Sarah had to admit that.  No matter how many hours her father spent in his little garden behind the house, no matter how much he pulled weeds and fertilized, it could never be breathtakingly exotic as this garden.

Once upon a time, she would have dreamed of such untamed beauty with a sigh.  Now, as she glanced around at the flowers growing wild in designs that no mathematician could devise and listened to the buzzing of fat bees and exotic birds, she felt distinctly uncomfortable.  She realized with a start that she wanted a pair of hedge trimmers and a good thick pair of gloves.

It seemed like sacrilege to wish for such a thing in a garden like this, but at some point, she had come to prefer neatly trimmed gardens with flowers carefully arranged to be pleasing to the eye and sterilized to avert the presence of pests of all kinds; silent gardens, with nary a living creature save those the gardener wished.

Feeling slightly silly, she slipped off her shoes and socks.  _I always used to want to run barefoot in a meadow._  It was a strange hope and she knew it, but perhaps if she could experience it, she could regain whatever it was that she had lost...whatever it was that now made her a stranger here.  

Sarah stood and walked in a circle.  Nothing happened.  Feeling even sillier, she danced a few steps.  Her cheeks burning, though, she quickly stopped.  All it had accomplished was making her feel ridiculous.

With a cough, she sat down and picked the strands of grass off of her toes before putting her socks back on and tying her shoes with an angry jerk.  _What am I doing? I could have stepped on something sharp, and then I'd be no help to Toby whatsoever._  Resolving again to do whatever it took to get her little brother through this maze quickly and unscathed, she strode towards the garden walls.  

After a moment, however, she paused and frowned.  _Strange._ She should have been flush up against the walls by now, but to her eyes, they appeared no closer than they had been before she started walking.  She took one step...then another...

And paused again.  _That's right.  I forgot.  Now I remember why I hate this place._

_"I need to get through the Labyrinth, but there aren't any turns or corners or anything... It just goes on and on and—"_

_"Well, you just ain't lookin' right! It's full of openings!"_

She shook her head to clear it of the memory.  The whiny, petulant voice of her teenage self still lingered in her ears, embarrassing her.

"Fine," she said aloud.  "So the Labyrinth isn't logical.  It's the opposite.  So, to get out of here...I just...have to do the opposite of whatever I would actually do normally."

With a smug grin, she turned around and walked the other way.  After a moment, she found herself back at the fountain.  She kept walking, but only found herself against the wall of the palace.  Sarah frowned.  "All right... Perhaps I was wrong."

_So it's not the way I would think it is, nor is it the opposite.  That leaves only..._

Hardly even knowing why she was doing it, she slowly turned and started walking parallel to the walls.  As she walked, she turned her head to the left to watch the garden walls to see if they moved at all.

Suddenly, she was knocked off her feet and flat on her back.  The breath knocked out of her, she lay still and gasped for air for a moment, staring up at the dusky orange sun.  Once she could breathe well enough, she reached up and rubbed her forehead, where a lump was already forming.  She groaned in pain, but found her fingers to be covered in dust rather than in blood.

_I could still have a concussion, though... Can I still think clearly? How many fingers am I holding up? Who was Clytemnestra in mythology? What does the Pythagorean Theorem—_

"Oh, fuck it," she said aloud.  "I never knew the Pythagorean Theorem anyway."  Standing up slowly, Sarah grumbled at her popping joints – _Since when does my body creak? I'm only twenty-six years old!_ – and blinked bemusedly.  Right in front of her was a stony, viney wall.

She again looked to her left where the lengthy garden and the wall _had_ been, and found there the fountain and the palace, visible behind a gently rolling hill.

Ignoring the soreness of her body, Sarah laughed.  "I did it! I did it!"  She reached out her hand and rested her hand against the cool stone of the wall.  "Not logical, not irrational, but utterly sideways!"  Placing her other hand squarely on the wall, she craned her head back.

And back.

And back.

The wall seemed to stretch up to the clouds, towering higher than anything she could imagine.  It seemed impossible that something so tall could stand, yet stand it did.  Struck by a sudden feeling of vertigo, Sarah groaned and slammed her eyes shut.

She rested her head against the wall, hissing slightly and pulled away when her bruised forehead touched the wall.  _I hate heights.  Hate them, hate them, hate them._  Ever since the incident at the Bog of the Eternal Stench, she hadn't been able to bear large heights.  The tree outside the Labyrinth hadn't been too horrible, but _this_...

_It's okay... I can do this.  I'll show _him_. That childish, selfish, arrogant..._

"It's not that high," she whispered to herself.  "It's just an illusion.  It's not that high..."  Keeping her eyes squeezed tightly closed, she reached her right hand up as high as it could go and grabbed a protruding rock.  Slowly, her left foot crept up from the ground, searching for a foothold.  Biting her lip, she prepared herself to lift her right foot and leave solid ground.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Sarah froze.  The voice was distant, but unmistakably real.  _No.  Toby needs my help.  If I don't climb this wall now, who knows when I'll have another chance? For all I know, next time I come back out here, this wall will have sharp spikes sticking out of them._  She said a silent apology to the voice and hoisted her foot off the ground.

"Hello? Anyone? Help!"

_Dammit_.  The voice had been closer that time, and definitely very young and female...and scared.  _I can't leave a scared child alone...not even if she _is_ a brat who mocked my little brother.  _Sarah sighed and let go of the wall, not wanting to admit to herself that she was slightly relieved to postpone the climbing.

"Hello?" Sarah called back.  "Are you there?"

"Yes! Hello? Can you help me?" 

"Yes... Where are you?"

"I don't know!" the panicked voice called back.  "I...I don't know! Please, _help me! _P—p—_please!_"

_Uh oh.__  She's losing it.  I'd better calm her down before she starts having a panic attack.  Remember what they told you in psych class..._

Sarah pitched her voice lower to sound calm and soothing.  "Okay, dear, I'll find you! Don't worry! Listen... Can you still hear me?"

"Y—yes..."

"Good.  This is what you're going to do.  You're going to take some deep, even breaths.  All right?"

"Okay..."

"Are you taking them?"

"...Yes..." The girl's voice sounded marginally calmer now.

"Good.  That's very good.  Okay, honey, now what you're going to do is sit down and stay where you are.  You're going to start singing, and I'm going to use the sound of your voice to find you.  Okay?"

"R—right."

Sarah waited, but the girl was silent.

"You...can start singing now," Sarah called, trying to keep an edge of impatience out of her voice.

"Oh! Oh, sor—sorry..."

Again, silence.  Determined not to jolt the girl's fragile emotional state any further, Sarah clenched her mouth closed to keep from calling out again.  

Finally, a thin, reedy voice floated from the direction of the castle.  _"Oh baby, baby, I'm so into you—"_

Before Sarah could stop herself, she groaned.  "_Please_.  Anything but Britney Spears."

The voice cut off suddenly.  A sob was the only reply.

"Oh, god," Sarah muttered.  _I insulted the patient.  I broke the cardinal rule.  Goddammit!_  "Honey?" she called, ashamed.  "I'm sorry.  You can sing whatever you want, all right?"

Another long silence followed.  In the instant before Sarah was ready to just sit down and admit defeat, the girl called brokenly, "I can't sing."

"That's okay, I promise.  You just need to make noise so I can find you! I wouldn't tell anyone if you sounded like Cameron Diaz."

"...Huh?"

"She has a bad singing voice.  It was a joke.  Listen, sing or talk, it doesn't matter, just _make noise_."

"I...I can recite Shakespeare...if that's okay..."

Sarah rolled her eyes, thankful that the girl couldn't see her.  "Yes, that's fine."

"_Ahem_... 'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name..."

As the voice continued, Sarah muttered under her breath, "Figures that she wouldn't know _Macbeth_ or _Hamlet_ or one of the non-sickening ones..."

Keeping her ear attuned to the sound of the girl's voice, but drowning out the exact words, Sarah threw open the doors of her rooms and entered the castle, leaving the garden behind her.

She gasped as she found herself in a luxurious set of rooms, decorated mostly in shades of mahogany and maroon silk.  "Wow," Sarah breathed, running a reverent hand across the crimson velvet of the bedspread on the four-poster bed.  She hadn't expected Jareth to give her anything this nice.  _But then, he probably can just create rooms like this with a flick of a wrist, so it's not like he expended any effort... Stop it, Sarah,_ she mentally scolded herself.  _Don't forget what you're here to do.  You don't have time to feel the bedspread and jump on the bed._  Jumping on the bed did sound like fun, though.  In fact, it sounded more fun than anything else she could think of.  _I don't need to jump on the bed for long, after all.  Just one or two quick bounces and I'll get right back to finding the girl.  Three bounces, tops..._

Sarah hoisted herself onto the bed, which gave pleasantly under her weight.  She laughed delightedly and flopped backwards onto the mattress.  _Maybe four bounces._  Stumbling to her feet, she caught her balance and bounced tentatively.  It felt _great_.  She hadn't bounced in years...not since she was a girl.  

She bounced higher and higher until her head nearly brushed the canopy, with nary a protesting creak of the kind that she remembered from her father and stepmother's bed.  With her arms outspread as though they were wings, she threw her head back and collapsed onto the bed, giggling helplessly.  Her head sank into the soft, cool pillow.  It felt surprisingly comforting, like a kiss brushed against her forehead from a mother she barely remembered.

"Oh," she sighed.  "I love this room..."  With a sound that was almost a purr, she stretched and pulled the covers around her in one smooth motion.

Sarah frowned.  There was the niggling feeling at the back of her mind that she'd forgotten something.  She _hated_ that feeling.  After all, what could she possibly be missing? Here she was in bed, all sleepy and cuddled up and ready for a good nap.  There was someone talking, but it was far off, and she couldn't really understand what the person was saying.  Whatever it was couldn't possibly be all _that_ important.  If it was anything at all, really, she was sure that she'd remember it when she woke up...

"_Hello? Where'd you go?!"_

Sarah's eyes jerked open as she sat straight up in bed with a gasp.  She took a deep breath, trying to convince herself that the panicked shout had been part of her dream.  Her heart feeling like it was pounding directly behind her eyes, she waited.  _It was a dream.  It had to be.  No one else is here._  

_"_Hello_, please?"_

Sarah cringed.  There it was again.  It had been real.  "Who on earth could it be?" she muttered.  "I'm _trying_ to sleep."

"Are you still there? Please help me!"

She glared.  There was no way that she'd get back to sleep with this racket.  "_Fine_," she grumbled.  "I'll go find you and make you shut up, you stupid loudmouth."

The frightened yells echoing in her ears, she dragged herself from her comfortable bed and trudged towards the grand double-doors at the entrance of the suite.  As she threw the doors open and stepped out into the hall, a cool breath of air brushed across her face and the screams suddenly seemed to double in volume.

"What the..." she whispered, shaking her head as though clearing cobwebs from inside.  "What was I _doing_?"  She turned around and stared back into the elegant suite with a look that amounted to horror.

Her head snapped around.  "Honey? I'm still here! I'm sorry, please keep talking.  I'm coming, I promise!"

"Where'd you _go_?" The girl's voice was dangerously close to wheezing sobs again.

"I'm really, really sorry," Sarah called, shooting an impotent glare towards the ceiling.  "I got...delayed.  Why not start reciting Shakespeare again?"

As the girl's voice resumed reciting Juliet's melodramatic speeches, Sarah started wandering through rooms, tracking the girl's voice as best she could.  Keeping her attention on the chanting rhythm of iambic pentameter, she silently ranted with her fists clenched.  _That rat! That pointy-toothed, long-haired, freak-eyed...rat! He made me forget everything again! He made me fall asleep while that poor girl was screaming her brains out... That damned bastard.  I swear I'll get him for this! _

Though she tried to ignore the strangeness of the rooms through which she was trekking and the rooms she passed by along the way, Sarah couldn't help but notice the room full of floating bubbles or the room with dancing suits of armor on the ceiling, or any one of several others.  

The room that really got her attention, however, was a replica of her old bedroom, white door beckoning temptingly: stuffed animals, ugly _Cats _poster, pictures of her mother – her real mother, the old music box, and everything that she had tried to forget that she had thrown away over the years.  Her eyes filling with tears, she took an involuntary step towards the door.  "No," she whispered and dragged her arm across her eyes, blinking hard.  "No.  I won't."

"Hello?"

"Yes," Sarah called, her voice hoarse, "I'm still here.  I'm getting close... You sound like you're just on the other side of a wall.  Keep talking!"

"Okay...I can do Juliet again! 'Romeo, Romeo—'"

_Great._  Sarah groaned.  She hadn't wanted to admit the possibility, but now she was certain: the girl's voice was coming from somewhere on the other side of her "bedroom."  She took a deep breath.  _I will not forget everything.  I will not.  I can't.  _Squeezing her eyes shut, she stepped into the room.

Nothing happened.

She peeked through her eyelashes; she was standing inside the room and nothing had jumped out at her.  Nor had she forgotten who and where she was or why she was there.  A deep sigh of relief escaped her lungs, but then she looked around in confusion.  The girl's voice was coming from _inside_ this room, it _had _to be, but there was no one else in there.

"Hey!" she called, interrupting the steady stream of Shakespeare.  "Tell me, what do you see?"

"W—what?"

"Wherever you are... What do you see when you look around?"

"Um...I...can't see..."

"_What_?"

"I... There's something over my eyes and I can't see a thing!"

_Count to three, Sarah.  One...Two...Three..._  She took a deep breath.  "It's okay.  Just try to stay calm.  I know that you're _really_ close by."

Sarah glanced around the room, looking for something, anything that seemed out of place.  On her first circuit around the room, she found nothing: the bed was neatly made, the drawers on her vanity overflowing with lipstick and a cheesy cardboard crown sitting atop them all.  Opening her closet, she found nothing out of the ordinary, except that some of the clothes in there were very embarrassingly dated.

The second look around the room revealed nothing unusual either.  The third was no different.

With a quiet groan of sheer frustration, Sarah sat down in the chair and stared into the mirror.  A younger face looked back at her.

A startled yelp escaping her, she jumped to her feet again.  After a short moment, she peered into the mirror again.  There was no doubt that the face looking back at her was indeed her own, but the face was rounder, the hair longer, the eyes brighter.  Sarah was looking at an image of herself as she had appeared when she had been in the Labyrinth before.

She raised a self-conscious hand to her hair; the image in the mirror did the same.  As she waggled her fingers in elaborate patterns, the figure did likewise.  Slowly, she reached out and touched the mirror... then gasped as her hand went straight through.  She pulled her hand back and looked closely at it.  It appeared to be fine.  

With barely any more hesitation than a shaky breath, Sarah stood on the chair, ducked her head and bent her back so her long legs wouldn't get stuck, and stepped through the mirror.


	5. five

At first, still recovering from the disorienting feeling of having just stepped through a solid-seeming mirror, Sarah didn't pay much attention to her surroundings and instead focused on catching her balance.  When a blast of hot air hit her face, though, she looked up and starting paying attention pretty quickly.

She gasped.  The girl was clearly visible about thirty feet away, which shouldn't have been a problem, except for the deep chasm in between them.  Again cursing heights, Sarah slammed her back protectively against the wall.

"Hello?" the girl said loudly.  "Is that you? Who is that?"

Sarah tried to reply, but the first time, her voice wouldn't work correctly.  She swallowed and tried again.  "Yes, dear, it's me."

"Are you here?" the girl asked, relief evident in her voice.  

Normally, Sarah would have found that a ridiculous question, but seeing as how the girl was clothed in a typical "damsel-in-distress" type gown, blindfolded, and tied to a stake, she couldn't even find it in herself to smile.

"Yes," she replied.  "I'm here."

"So come untie me!" the girl exclaimed.  "I want to get out of here!"

"...I can't," Sarah said reluctantly.

"What? Why not?"

"We have a bit of a problem."  Sarah gasped in shock and amended her statement to, "Well, more than a bit," as a spout of flame illuminated the chamber to reveal a dragon, its sinuous body curling around the column supporting the girl's platform.  Smoke curled from its pointed nostrils and its pointed tail lashed agitatedly, but it didn't seem to notice her yet.

"What?"

Sarah paused.  _There must be a way to get over to her.  Complete arrogant bastard he may be, but he doesn't make his challenges impossible.  They're just...difficult._  "Just be patient for another few minutes and let me figure this out, all right?"

Though Sarah scanned the chamber as intently as she could, she could see nothing with which to make any sort of bridge.  There was her ledge: completely empty and not nearly wide enough for her comfort.  When she turned around in the hopes that she could go back through the mirror and find something elsewhere to use, she found only a solid stone wall behind her.  With the exception of the column and the dragon, the rest of the chamber was a veritable vacuum.  She turned around once more, hoping against hope that something helpful would have appeared.  However, her luck seemed nonexistent.  

She slumped against the wall and tried to think of what she would tell the girl, who even now was still whimpering, when another breath of hot air hit her face.  Sarah looked up and directly at the source of the hot air: the dragon.  _Oh, no, please.  Not that.  Anything but that._  Despite her fervent prayers, it was obvious that the dragon was her only hope of reaching the girl.

With a nervous swallow, Sarah called to the beast, "Hey, you! You there! Dragon!"

For once, things went as planned and the dragon looked up and directly at her, but did not attack.  Sadly, however, Sarah had forgotten that the girl could hear her too.

"D—dragon?" the girl stammered.  "There's a—a—" At that point, the girl gave up on stuttering and seemed to decide that the best course of action was to let loose with a bloodcurdling scream of sheer terror.

Though Sarah clapped her hands over her ears at the piercing sound and shouted to the girl to calm down and be quiet, the dragon seemed to like the scream even less.  It curled agitatedly around the column, snorted great clouds of dark smoke, and hissed warningly.

The girl must have had very strong lungs, because the screech lasted for far longer than Sarah hoped it would.  However, eventually she needed to breathe and the scream trailed off into a rattle.  

In the instant when the young girl drew in a breath to scream again, Sarah saw her chance and shouted, "Quiet! I don't think he'll hurt you unless you _annoy_ him!"

It worked.  The girl's mouth slammed shut, and though she was visibly pale under the blindfold and though she whimpered, the chamber was again blessedly silent.  It took the dragon a few moments to calm down again.  Finally, though, the smoke lessened to a mere trickle and the dragon seemed as tranquil as it had been before.

"Dragon," Sarah called, a bit more quietly than the first time.  The dragon heard her, however, and looked up again.  "Dragon, I need your help."

"Help?" the girl gasped.  "What are you _talking_ about? Dragons don't help! They fry and crunch and kill and—"

"Monsters aren't supposed to be nice and dragons aren't supposed to help, but that's the way things are in this place," Sarah said, her voice almost a growl.  She wanted to help this girl, but the little brat certainly wasn't making it easy for her.  With a sigh, she transferred her attention back to the dragon.  "Dragon, I need your help to get to that platform and back.  That girl needs help, and you're the only one who can possibly be of assistance."  When the dragon twitched its tail thoughtfully, but did not move in one direction or the other, Sarah added hastily, "I'm sure, if there's something that you want, I could help you get it."

That seemed to make up the beast's mind.  With a soft snort of flame, it unraveled its long tail from around the column and stretched it out towards her.  At the sight of the thick, scaly mass right in front of her, Sarah's heart sank. 

"Um," she whispered, "I'm sure that your intentions are good, but is there another way we can do this? I...I have a bit of a height-related problem.  Could you pick me up in a claw and fly me over, or something? I just...I don't think that I can let myself lean over far enough to grab your tail, and I'm not strong to hang onto it on the way over.  A claw would really be good.  In fact, it would really be the best—"  When she realized that she was babbling, she slammed her mouth shut and resigned herself to looking hopefully at the dragon.

The dragon looked back at her almost regretfully and unfurled enough of its body from the column to show her that it had no claws; its body was essentially of a big, fancy, especially dangerous snake.

"Oh..." Sarah said.  "Um..."  She looked around desperately, hoping for something, anything, when she noticed in surprise that the mirror behind her had reappeared.  She reached towards it, feeling her heart lurch crazily at the thought that there might be a way out of this situation that didn't require her to grab onto that mass of snakelike tail and be swung over a chasm that was god-only-knows how deep.  A mere instant after her hope was reborn, however, guilt followed closely on its heels.  _I can't leave her.  I answered her screams and I came here to help her, no matter what.  Can I just walk away, go back to those rooms of forgetfulness and leave her here alone? I want to, but I really can't._  Despite her decision, she couldn't seem to move in one direction or another.  She tried to take a step towards the tail, but her shaking legs seemed to be rooted to the ground.  Then she tried to step towards the mirror; this time, her legs moved, but the girl whimpered behind her and she knew that she couldn't do it.

Sarah must have stood there fervently and desperately hoping for some sort of _deus ex machina _for close to five minutes.  _Just do it and get it over with, Sarah.  You won't die.  Jareth is not a good man, but he wouldn't let you die.  Of course, you're not supposed to be in here to begin with, so it's a safe bet that this room isn't baby-proofed for you._  

Her mind screaming conflicting messages at her, she knew that she was only leaving this room with the girl or dead, so before she could think another word, Sarah closed her eyes and flung herself straight at the tail, which had patiently remained still and waiting.

There was a moment of sheer terror as she fell freely, her heart slamming through her rib cage.  Then, with a comforting thud, she hit a solid bulk.  Her arms and legs immediately and instinctively curled around it, holding tightly.  

For a few seconds, wind whistled around her ears and she knew that the tail was moving.  Keeping her eyes closed, she tried very hard not to think about the emptiness that yawned beneath her.

When she felt the tail pause, she managed to crack her eyes open to find herself only inches from the marble platform.  Her limbs seemed to have frozen into their protective positions, and it took several seconds for the insistent signals her brain was sending to them to register.  Finally, though, she managed to pry herself loose from the tail and tumbled the few inches to the surface of the platform.

Though Sarah would have been happy to stay prone on the platform for quite a long time, she forced herself to reach up and pat the tail.  "Thank you," she croaked.  "Thank you."  _Don't forget, Sarah, you're going to have to do that again when you want to leave._  She groaned.

"Are you here?" the girl whispered from above her.

"Yeah," Sarah managed to whisper back, rubbing a hand against the imprints on her cheek created by the cold scales pressing against her face.  "I'm here.  Give me a second and we'll get you untied."

It took her a moment to climb to her knees, but she managed it by keeping her eyes squarely on the girl's face.  With a hand that only trembled a little bit, she reached up and gently pulled the blindfold up and off the girl's face.

Long blond hair fell around the girl's face as she blinked and looked down at Sarah.

Sarah gasped.  "You...Your _eyes_.  They're—"

"They're what?" the girl asked calmly, in a tone utterly at odds with her panic of mere seconds before.

Infuriated tears sprang to Sarah's own eyes as she looked up into one green eye, one brown eye.  "_You,_" she managed to whisper before her voice choked itself off.

Jareth looked down at her with an arrogant serenity that made her hate him even more, if possible.  "Yes, me."  He rolled his eyes and the chains binding him to the stake disappeared.  "Tell me, Sarah, did you _honestly_ think that I would put the girl in a place where you could find her so easily?"

Sarah sank back onto her ankles, dimly noting that the chasm behind her had disappeared, as had the dragon, and she and Jareth were now in a perfectly normal room.  "You're a monster," she snarled, the tears flowing onto her cheeks.  "You _played_ with me.  Knowing how scared I was, knowing how much I hate heights and how much I want to help Anna, you jerked me around like a mouse on a string, you _bastard_!"

"Of course I know how much you want to help her, you silly woman.  People like you think they have to help every little ant.  I knew that you would go looking for her.  That's why I did this.  I wanted you to get it out of your bloody system, and now I'd like you to go back to your rooms, which I have so kindly prepared for you, and sit there quietly, and stop being a nuisance."

"You're ridiculous," she snapped, hating his smug face.  "What if I had had a heart attack?"

"Then I would have one less problem to worry about."  She didn't laugh.  Jareth heaved a sigh.  "You have no sense of humor."

"Am I supposed to find it funny that I could have died?"

"You wouldn't have.  Are you not listening? I'm trying to protect you from yourself, which, at least, is one thing that has not changed.  I didn't do this for my own entertainment, much as the thought of you hurtling away from me into darkness does bring a smile to my face."

"Oh?" she arched a furious eyebrow.  "Then why did _you_ have to pretend to be Anna? Why not have minions do it for you?"

Jareth yawned and brushed an imaginary speck of dust off of his dark gloves.  "Well, that part _was_ for my own amusement, I do admit."

Sarah slapped him.  Hard.

In theory, she was opposed to violence, but at that moment, nothing could have given her a greater satisfaction than to see a scarlet handprint on Jareth's cheek.  Looking very nearly surprised, he stared at her. 

"How _dare_ you," she raged.  "How dare you jerk me around, you goddamned parasite! You revel in others' pain and I wish to _god_ I'd never even heard of you, let alone _met_ you.  You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me and if I were still foolish enough to believe that my wishes might come true, I would wish that you never even existed."

Silence fell.  Jareth continued to stare at her, an uncharacteristically somber look on his face, but he made no attempt to speak.  As for her part, Sarah, glaring back, was not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was uncomfortable.

After an awkward moment, a slightly wistful smile crossed Jareth's voice.  "Now that's the Sarah I remember," he said quietly.

Sarah blinked, totally discombobulated.  "What?"

"Passionate and the slightest bit immature, that is.  I always found it most entertaining.  Quite a pity that any moment now, you'll draw that cloak of indifference around you again and start prattling on about complexes and repressed memories.  I much prefer the hot-blooded child to the ice queen."

She swallowed.  "It's not about what you prefer, Jareth," she replied quietly, but still with an edge in her voice.  "I stopped basing myself on what I thought you would want a long time ago."

"More's the pity."

"What did you expect? I don't live in this world, and I had to stop pretending that I did.  I _grew up_, yes, and would it really be so terrible for you to do the same?"

Jareth's face was dead serious as he said, "More terrible than you could imagine."

She laughed meanly.  "What's this? A modern day Peter Pan?"

"Don't compare me to that fickle elf," he snapped.  "He and I are two entirely different breeds."

"Yeah, he can fly and you can't.  You both seem to enjoy tights, though."

"Sarah, I am not human.  I look human and I sound human, but I am not.  I'm a goblin, and not any, but the king of the goblins.  This realm, this world is shaped around me.  I mold it and it responds to my very thoughts, my _will_.  Do you not understand?"

She had the uneasy feeling that this was the first time he was being entirely honest with her.  "Not entirely," she said slowly.

"If I were to grow and change, so would this land.  If I began thinking as a grown-up human, this entire land would be destroyed."

"Destroyed? Why?"

"This is the Labyrinth," he said slowly, as though he were talking to an infant.  "There is a large amount of sheer chaos inherent in it.  This chaos exerts a force upon this world, as does my mind.  If my mind were to start sending messages contrary to chaos, the two forces would tear this world to shreds, along with all who live in it.  Say what you will about me, but I have certain responsibilities that may run counter to your ideals, and I must fulfill them."

"You? Responsibilities?" Sarah scoffed.  "Is kidnapping—"

He held up a cautionary finger.  "Borrowing."

"—_kidnapping _innocent people one of those responsibilities?"

"Of course," Jareth replied.

"How could I have ever liked you?" she muttered under her breath.

"Are you completely daft, or are you just not listening? I was born to this.  There are times that I would rather be doing something else, but I am the Goblin King.  It's my job."

"...A job that you take great pleasure in.  Poor baby."

"Yes, it's such a thrill," he said sarcastically.  "Here I am, innocently going about my business, when I'm informed that my goblins have gone and stolen _another_ baby brother or pre-pubescent crush or bloody yappy puppy, and I have to drop everything I'm doing and straighten it out.  Certainly not _my_ idea of fun."

"You may be many things, Jareth, but the role of victim doesn't suit you.  You take too much pleasure in your 'straightening it out' to be believable."

He shrugged.  "So I try to squeeze what enjoyment I can out of what is essentially quite tiring.  How does that make me any worse than one of your businessmen who borrow the company Porsche to drive to a boring meeting? Or," he added slyly, forestalling her response, "your boyfriend, who fools around with his boss to while away the long hours at work?"

Sarah blinked, her heart rising to her throat as the implications of his words sank in.  "You can't be serious," she said, her voice little more than a whisper.  "Brian wouldn't—"

"But he does.  Tell me, Sarah," he said in a confidential tone, "has he done anything out of the ordinary lately? Perhaps given you something? A...gift, maybe? For no real reason, of course, simply 'because you're wonderful'?"

Her heart slammed crazily.  _The rose.__  He gave me the rose.  No, it can't be! _her heart cried.  _Jareth must be lying! He knows about the rose because he must have been spying and he's just trying to upset me._

Noting her accusing gaze, Jareth caught her eyes with his own.  "No," he said, "it's not what you're thinking.  I have lived for a very long time, and I have seen the best and worst of humanity.  Whether I like it or not, I know very well how those silly hearts of yours work.  When people are unfaithful, they are filled with guilt and often attempt some small gesture or token; it is enough to assuage that guilt, but not enough to draw suspicion."

Though his words had the ring of truth in the ears of an aspiring psychologist, Sarah still refused to believe him.  "But if you weren't spying," she said, her voice wobbling and uncertain despite herself, "if you _weren't_, how would you know whether Brian has been—has been...?"

"I wasn't spying _before_," Jareth said smoothly.  "However, once you were here, I was naturally curious and decided to investigate what a shambles your life has become in the last twelve years."

"You're a liar!" she said viciously.  "You're a nasty, petty liar!"

"Nasty? Perhaps.  But have I ever lied to you?" He raised his eyebrow inquiringly.  "And I'm not lying to you when I say that I viewed your lover stark naked and laboring away on top of another woman."

This time, he caught her furious hand as it flew at his face and gripped her wrist tightly.

"I _hate_ you," she ground out, dangerously close to tears.

"I believe," Jareth said with a trace of a smile in his voice, "that this is what's known as biting the hand that is feeding you."

One tear slipped down Sarah's cheek.  Then another.  Before she knew it, a steady stream of tears was rolling down her face, despite her best efforts to control them.  Jareth let go of her wrist, and she lowered her hand and attempted, mostly successfully, to keep herself from sobbing out loud.

She believed him.  She didn't want to, but she believed him.  He had never lied to her, not about something like this.  So that meant that Brian had to be cheating on her.  

Upon admitting that to herself, Sarah clenched her fists and started sobbing freely, unashamedly.  She cried long and hard, utterly losing herself in her misery.  It was all too much: seeing Jareth and coming here again, being separated from Toby and yelled at and told she was worthless, forgetting, remembering, jumping at the chasm, Jareth's charade, and now this.  It was just too much.

Sarah was not a pretty crier; she had never mastered the technique of letting one perfect tear at a time slide down her cheek like a precious pearl and sniffling in a ladylike way.  Viewing her flushed and splotchy face, runny nose, and puffy eyes after a good crying spell, her father had always affectionately referred to her as his little gremlin.  This time was, of course, no exception.  Unwilling and unable to raise her head, she remained lost in her unhappiness even after her sobs had subsided to hiccups and sniffles, emerging only when she felt a hand awkwardly patting her shoulder.  Looking up incredulously, she found that the hand did indeed belong to Jareth, who, upon seeing her blotchy features, recoiled with a vague look of disgust on his aristocratic face.

"Would you care to go somewhere and... splash some water on... that?" he asked, clearly trying to avoid looking at her directly, though he still bore an expression similar to the one she would have worn had she seen a small child picking his nose.

"Get stuffed," Sarah replied tiredly.  "Your goblins are uglier than this, and you look at them all the time."

"Yes, but my goblins never had the opportunity to look any better."  Still somewhat averting his eyes, he sat down next to her and crossed his legs.  Suddenly, a peculiar expression crossed his face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"No, really.  What is it?"

He coughed.  "I seem to have...split my pants."

"What?"

"The back seam of my pants.  It's split.  Perhaps I shouldn't have sat like that."  Jareth sighed, looking extremely put-upon.  "What a bloody annoyance."

A small grin tugged at the corner of Sarah's mouth, despite her bloodshot eyes.  "Maybe you just shouldn't wear such tight pants.  No, I'm _serious,_" she persisted as he waved a gloved hand disdainfully.

"Nonsense," he said dismissively.  "I'll fix them in a moment, after I've escorted you back to your rooms."

"I don't need an escort," Sarah said.  "I'm sure I can find my way back with no problems."

"I'm not worried about you getting lost.  I'm worried about you attempting to wander off and out of my castle.  It's hard enough having you here at all.  At least once you're back in your rooms, I know you won't attempt to leave."

"Why? Because I'll forget everything?" she asked darkly.

"Precisely.  I don't have the time to baby-sit you right now."

"Yes, I was going to mention that for someone who should probably be out thwarting my baby brother, you've been paying plenty of attention to me and my...my soon-to-be ex," Sarah replied sardonically.

"Your little brother isn't exactly a threat.  It seemed more important to make sure that I thwarted you first.  However, I _am_ an excessively busy man, so if you wouldn't mind...?"

"Do you honestly expect me to say that I don't?"

"If it helps, I give you my solemn word that I will take you home safe and sound in approximately twenty-one hours and fifteen minutes, where your memory will immediately return."

"And my brother?"

"I will take you home, with or without your brother."

"That wasn't the answer I was looking for, Jareth."

"Nonetheless, it's the only answer I can offer."  He stood up and gallantly offered her an arm.  "Shall we?"

Sarah didn't like it, not one bit, but at the moment she was worn out physically and emotionally; frankly, she didn't see what alternatives she had.  Laboriously, she climbed to her feet and hooked her arm in his.  

Subconsciously bracing herself for another out-of-body-trip, she was startled when he tugged at her arm, shot her an annoyed glance, and said, "At this point, you are supposed to put one foot in front of another.  It's a system of transportation known as 'walking,' and it's really quite easy to do, assuming that you still possess whatever little remnant of wits you once had."

"You're the very soul of charity, Jareth," Sarah said with a heavy note of sarcasm in her voice.

With that, they turned and walked towards the door that had appeared where the mirror had been.

As they walked, Sarah kept twisting and craning her head around strangely.  Jareth clearly noticed her contortions, but seemed to be making a concerted effort to ignore it, no doubt putting it down to the vagaries of woman.  At length, however, she suddenly snorted and started giggling helplessly.  Jareth couldn't ignore her odd behavior anymore.

Giving her a piercing stare, he asked calmly, "What, pray tell, is so amusing?"

"Nothing," she gasped, and tried to control herself, but failed and collapsed into another bout of laughter that only intensified with the disgruntled look shot her way.

Shortly, they continued walking without any further disruption, though every few seconds, Sarah would glance at Jareth and giggle quietly to herself.  When Jareth wordlessly deposited her back inside her luxurious suite, it was with an expression of poorly disguised relief on his face.

As he disappeared behind the closing mahogany doors, Sarah's laughter suddenly increased in volume.  As all her cares and worries seemed to melt away into a comforting fog, she laughed harder and harder until tears streamed down her face.

Even when, gasping for air and clutching the stitch in her side, she climbed into bed and was asleep almost before her head touched the pillow, her face retained its ear-to-ear smile, and she still sniggered in her sleep.

The rooms hadn't taken away every memory.

She still remembered that Jareth's underwear had little pictures of himself lovingly embroidered all over it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: To everyone: thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying and will continue to enjoy.

~signpost


	6. six

"Sarah? Sarah!"

She rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow, mumbling quietly to herself.  Someone was calling her name, but she was tired, too tired to get up.

"Sarah!"

The voice was becoming more insistent.  Though she clapped her hands to her ears, she couldn't block out the annoying sound.

"Go away," she muttered sleepily.  "I'm trying to sleep.  Come back later."

"_Sarah_!"

"Oh, fine," Sarah grumbled.  "You're not going to go away until I talk to you, are you?"  With an angry pout on her tired face, she rolled over and opened her eyes.

There was some sort of dwarfish-looking goblin standing right outside her rooms, looking at her with a wide-eyed expression on his wizened face.  He was perhaps the strangest-looking creature she had ever seen in her life.  His skin was like leather, with a large, bulbous nose, and little wisps of white whiskers everywhere.  In fact, he reminded her of nothing so much as an old, knotty, gnarled tree, with something of the same cranky disposition.

"Yes?" she asked crossly.  "What do you want?"

"Sarah!" the goblin exclaimed, his voice creaky and crackly.  "It's me! And... what happened to _you_?"

"Who are you?" she yawned.  "I'm trying to sleep."

"Who am I?" the goblin snorted, though there was a distinct flash of worry in his eyes.  "I'm Hoggle! Don't you know me, little lady?"

"Hoggle?" Sarah frowned.  There was something about that name that sounded slightly familiar, but she couldn't place it.  After a moment, her face cleared and she shrugged.  "Sorry, I have no idea who you are or what you're doing here.  Would you mind terribly going away...?"

"You don't know who..." The goblin's voice trailed off into an angry mutter.  "What a rat!"

"I beg your pardon," Sarah said stiffly.  "I'm not a rat, and seeing as I don't even know you, it's slightly rude of you to refer to me as such."

"Not you.  _Him_!" He gestured angrily with his oversize hands.  "Jareth.  He did this!"

"Did what?"  She shook her head.  "Why am I even sitting here talking to you? I'm going to go back to sleep now, so you might as well leave."

"Wait!" the goblin yelled, startling birds, who rose up from the trees in a great cloud of disgruntled chirpings.  "Just come out here for a minute.  Not so hard, is it? Just come on outside, and I'll go away."

"You make no sense."

"Welcome back to the Labyrinth, lady," the goblin said sarcastically.  "I ain't gonna go away until you come out here, so you might want to get it over with."

"Fine," she snapped, throwing back the crimson covers.  "But you'd better go away as soon as I get out there."

"It's a promise."

Sarah slipped her feet out of bed and stormed over to the doors, emerging into the sunlight.  "There.  Are you happy now, you—" She paused.

The goblin tipped his head, a sly smile at the corner of his mouth.  "I guess I'll be going now, then, little lady."

"Wait," she said slowly, her brain spinning.  "Wait, I do know you, don't I?"

"Should say so."

"I've seen you before.  In the Labyrinth."  Sarah blinked several times.  "You...you helped me.  You – Hoggle!" she exclaimed, her thoughts re-organizing.  "Oh, Hoggle, it's you!"

She dropped to her knees and gave him a tight hug, kissing him on the cheek.  Though he would never have admitted it, a tear rolled down his old, tired cheek, finding every crevice on the way.  He hugged her back, patting her shoulder awkwardly.  For her part, Sarah couldn't believe it.  The whole time, she'd been hoping and praying for her friends to show up, but deep inside, she hadn't actually believed that they would.  And now, here was Hoggle, somehow, and he still looked exactly the same.

She pulled back, blinking hard.  "Hoggle, how did you know I was here?"

He put his hands behind his back.  "Word travels fast in the Labyrinth, missy.  When the faeries started whispering about a red-headed boy who looked familiar, and about a pretty, dark-haired lady that Jareth whisked away, it weren't too hard to figure out."

"So you... came all the way here to help me?" She sniffled slightly.  

"Yeah, that and, um..." He looked sheepishly down at his hands.

"What?" Sarah asked curiously.

"To...to see if you still got my jewels!" he blurted out, turning a dull red around the base of his neck.

She blinked.  "What?"

"My jewels," he said again, the words seeming to flow easier this time.  "You never gave 'em back, and them's my rightful property, after all, so I was wonderin' if you still got 'em."

"I..." She lowered her head and scratched the back of her neck.  Faint words out of the past again returned to her.  

_"Them's my rightful property! It's not fair!"_

_"No, it isn't.  But... that's the way it is."_

Hoggle was still looking at her expectantly.  "I'm... sorry, Hoggle," she said.  "I don't have them with me."

"Oh."  He stared at the ground for a moment.  "Do you know where they are?"

Sarah sighed and stood up, gazing off into the distance.  "I don't know... I don't even remember if I had them with me when I got home after the last time I was here."

"Ah."

"I really am sorry," Sarah said anxiously.  "I should have returned them sooner, but I got so caught up in trying to rescue Toby that I forgot."

He made a dismissive noise.  "It don't really matter.  But...if you do find 'em, let me know."

"Of course."  She paused.  "Oh, Hoggle, it is so good to see you.  I missed you!"

"You...you did?" He looked up at her again.

"Yes! You're my friend, remember?"  Sarah smiled.  "I would have recognized you before, but—"

"Yeah, Jareth was making you forget things again.  I could've told you that."

"I just haven't seen you in so long.  I can't believe you're actually here!" 

"Why'd you stop calling us?"

The question, so bluntly asked, threw Sarah off for a moment.  "Huh?"

"You said that you needed us, but then you just started ignoring us."  He crossed his arms and looked up at her with a cool expression in his eyes.

"I didn't start ignoring you all," Sarah exclaimed.  "That wasn't what happened!"

"Sure what it looked like to us."

Sarah's heart ached at the thought of her friends waiting, day after day to see her again, and day after day bringing nothing but disappointment.  "No, I..." She exhaled noisily.  "I didn't forget about you all.  I thought about you, Ludo, and Didymus constantly.  But I was just so...busy."

Hoggle snorted.  "Busy? Too busy to see friends? Or just too busy to see _us_?"

"No," Sarah said again, but this time, her voice was weaker, as was her conviction.  Hoggle's words had the ring of truth to them.  "You don't understand, Hoggle.  I had to grow up.  I had to start spending more time in the real world."

"We ain't real?"

"No, that wasn't what I meant."  She raked her hands through her hair.  "My world, the world that I live in.  I had to live in it and stop wishing to want to be in yours.  I had to go to school and do homework, and... I had to be friends with people there, you see? I didn't have time to go and spray faeries with you, or go and guard the bridge with Didymus."

Hoggle's face seemed to close in on itself and become expressionless.  "So we just weren't important anymore."

"That's not _it_," she said, getting frustrated.  "You just don't understand, Hoggle! You have no idea what my life is like.  I have to write my thesis, I have to get a job, to look out for Toby, to...to break up with my boyfriend.  You act like I've just been lounging and eating grapes.  I haven't.  I've been working _hard_.  I couldn't stay fourteen years old forever.  What _is_ it with you goblins? Why can none of you_ understand_ that I had to grow up?"

"You don't understand nothin', neither," Hoggle muttered.  "Not a thing.  I don't know why I even came here.  Stay here with him, then."  Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Sarah stared after him unhappily.  She hadn't meant to explode at him, but she was just so sick of it.  In the last few hours, she'd had more angry words shot at her than she had in years.  The worst part was that they were all acting like she had done it all on purpose.  _It's not fair_! she wanted to scream.  _It's not my fault!_ Maybe goblins didn't age, didn't gain a day, but she did.  She was twenty-six years old, and they were all acting as though she had become a crone.

_But I wished for Hoggle to come,_ she thought sadly.  _I held my breath and prayed that my friends would show up.  And he hasn't changed at all.  It's all the exact same as I remember it, which means that it's nothing like I remember it._  Instead of Hoggle being her faithful friend, here he was, walking away from her with his small back held proudly straight, and it was her fault.  Her fault for growing up.  He no longer understood her, and she understood him all too well.  _I don't belong here.  _She spun around in a suddenly desperate circle.  _I don't belong in this place – I've got to get out of here, _now_.  Before it's too late.  Screw this place, I've got to go find Toby and get him through the Labyrinth._

Without another thought, she turned and ran off after Hoggle, disliking the feel that the birds were all watching her.  Though her legs were infinitely longer than his, either he was moving much faster than he looked or she was moving much slower than she felt.  As she chased him across the garden, each second felt more and more like a nightmare, except that she was not being chased, she was doing the chasing.

By the time she caught up to where he had been, he had already scaled the garden wall with amazing dexterousness and was somewhere on the other side.

"Hoggle!" she called, hoping that he could still hear her.  "_Hoggle!_ Are you still there?"

Though there was no answer, she could almost feel him, standing just on the other side of this impossible-looking wall, arms crossed, foot tapping, waiting for her to speak.  She took a deep breath and flattened her palms against the wall, hoping that she could say the right thing.

"Hoggle, I'm really sorry," she shouted.  "You're right.  I should have kept calling you all, no matter what.  I made a mistake, I messed up, and I'm really sorry for that, but you all never stopped being important to me.  I _promise_ that! Please, Hoggle, don't just leave.  I have to get out of here too, and you're my only hope – Will you help me get over this wall?"

"What about Jareth?" was the surly response.

"What _about_ Jareth?" she yelled.  

There was a long moment of musing silence during which she held her breath, hoping that he hadn't walked away.

Finally, he spoke again.  "We'll have to find Ludo and Didymus.  They'd never forgive me if they found out that you came back and they didn't see you."

Gladness and relief sang in her heart.  "Of _course!_"

"Just climb, little lady, and you'll be over the wall before you know it."

Her elation disappeared.  "Great."  Unlike last time, though, she didn't hesitate.  Digging her hands into crevices, she began to hoist herself up, trying to ignore her pounding heart.  The actual climbing itself was easier than she had been expecting it to be, but by the time she was several feet in the air and the top of the wall was still nowhere to be found, Sarah started to panic a little bit.

"H—Hoggle!" she called, her voice quavering.  "How high is this wall?"

"Not as high as that ladder we climbed out of the Oubliette," he replied, sounding slightly confused.  

"Yeah," she muttered, "but that time, I had a _ladder_."  Hoping that she was more than halfway up, though, there was nothing for it but to grit her teeth and keep climbing.  _Just don't look down_, she thought to herself.  _Look straight ahead and pretend that you're only two or three feet off the ground._  Her hands started to feel cold.  "How did you make it over this thing so fast?" she grumbled, but it was loud enough for the small goblin's large ears to catch.

"I didn't waste time worryin', that's how."

"Lot of help you are."

"Just keep climbin'.  You must be nearly there by now."

"_Dammit_, Hoggle," she said through her teeth, "I must be twenty feet off the ground by now."  No sooner had she spoken, however, than her left hand reached for a handhold and found a smooth surface.  With great effort, she pulled herself on top of the wall, and lay there gasping, forehead pressed against the cool stone, eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to look up, down, or anywhere.

"Sarah?"

She cracked her eyes open and peeked down the opposite side.  Immediately, she groaned and slammed her eyes shut, a wave of vertigo rocking her.  Hoggle had been looking up at her from what looked like very, very far below.  

"Y—you look like an ant!" she gasped.  "I can't climb down _that_!"  Suddenly, she wanted to cry.  She couldn't climb down either side; she was just stuck up here.

"It ain't as far as it looks," Hoggle reassured loudly.  "Just start climbing down and you'll be at the bottom in no time."

"Hoggle," she said warningly, "that's what you said the _first _time."

"Well, you made it, didn't you?"

"Barely," she said, resting her head against the stone again.  "I can't do it, Hoggle.  I just _can't_."

"So what're you gonna do?"

"Stay up here? Till I die, maybe?"

He snorted.  "If you don't climb down now, I'm gonna start throwing rocks at you."

Her eyes flew open.  "You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I? The Sarah I knew wouldn't have let a little drop scare her."

"But I—" she trailed off and groaned.  "If I fall, Hoggle, I'm blaming you."

"Yeah, yeah," he rumbled.

Slowly, as slowly as she possibly could, she swung her leg off the top of the wall, searching for a foothold, biting her lip so hard that it nearly bled.

The climb down was twice as scary as the climb up, if that was even possible.  Only a few feet down, the rock that her left foot was resting on crumbled away into nothing, nearly sending her careening down to the ground.  Luckily, though, she managed to stabilize herself on her right foot and grip the wall with her shaking hands for all she was worth.  _If Westley could manage it on the Cliffs of Insanity, you can manage this, Sarah._  A bark of grim laughter was torn from her tight throat.  _Great, Sarah, you're losing your mind already.  You're turning to fantasy movies for real-life encouragement.  Well done._  Slowly, though, she managed to keep herself moving downwards, and indeed, sooner than she though possible, her right foot touched solid ground.

Releasing the wall, she collapsed onto the ground, whispering a silent litany of "Thank god, thank god, thank god," over and over again.  During the time it took her to recover, she was vaguely aware of Hoggle looking down at her with a bemused expression on his craggy face.

Several minutes later, when her hands no longer felt ice cold and her legs felt strong enough to support her, she sat up, heaving a relieved sigh.  "Sorry about that," she apologized with an embarrassed laugh.  "I have a bit of a problem with heights."

"Heh," Hoggle grunted, lending her a hand to stand up, albeit shakily.  "You sure have changed, haven't you?" Really, it wasn't a question.  "Why didn't you crumble up like that after being dangled over the Bog of Eternal Stench, eh?"

"Because it wasn't that far to fall, was it?" She brushed off her clothes, dusty from the trip over the wall.

"Yeah, but the end result would've been lots more unpleasant."

"I consider getting my brains splattered all over the ground to be rather unpleasant."  She paused, looking around.  "Where are we?"

"The Goblin City," he said with a grand gesture.  "...You've been here before, Sarah."

"Yes, but... This place looks different."  Looking around again, she decided that there was no way she could have recognized it.  The Goblin City she'd remembered was a brown place, full of plaster and daub buildings.  This place looked nothing like that.  This place was far more sinister.  Black buildings, black brick, black smoke rising from black chimneys.  She shook her head.  "I could swear that this is a place I've never been before."

Hoggle nodded sagely.  "Ahh.  I forgot.  You never saw this part of the city."

"What do you mean, 'this part'? What's special about this part?"

"Well, last time we was here, we came in the front door of the city, so to speak.  This is behind the castle, and it's...different here."

Sarah shivered involuntarily.  "Yeah.  It's creepier."

"With good reason.  All of the toughest goblins live here, in Jareth's shadow."  He looked up at her.  "I don't particularly like bein' here."

"Then let's get out of here," she replied.  "I don't like it either."  She looked around again.  "So, where are we going?"

"To find Didymus.  Far as I know, he still guards that stinkin' bridge."  He frowned.  "Only that idiot would go back to the Bog."

"The bridge?" she asked, confused.  "But... didn't it...collapse?"

"It collapsed on your turn through the Labyrinth, little lady."  He picked a direction and started walking.

Sarah hurried after him.  "I don't understand," she said.  "Are you saying that, well, this sounds ridiculous, but that it somehow repaired itself once I was gone?"  She laughed, as if to reinforce the fact that it was a ridiculous idea.

"Around this place, things have a way of goin' back to the way they was before."  He nodded back at her.  "So you're not far off."

"So anything I did, any changes I made... they're all gone?" She sighed, amazed despite herself.  "It's almost like I never existed here, then."

"Not quite," he muttered.  "But, anyway, all you gotta know is that Didymus is back guarding the bridge, and that's where we're gonna find him."

"Right."  She straightened her back, eying the surrounding buildings out of the corner of her eyes.  "Um, Hoggle, I don't want to alarm you, but I think we're being watched."

He followed her gaze to where a pair of black shutters snapped shut with a _click._

"Crud!" he muttered.  "I was hopin' that they wouldn't notice we was here if we came through in the midday... They all sleep until midnight 'round here," he added for her benefit, "but if they know we're here, they all know it."

"Are they...going to be trouble?" She swallowed, walking a little faster and wishing for Ludo's solid strength at her back.

"Is Jareth an arrogant sneak?" he replied.

Sarah sighed.  "Damn.  Can we outrun them?" Behind her, a door opened and a goblin slipped out quietly and scuttled into an alley, presumably to alert others to their presence.

"_You_ can," Hoggle replied, looking down at his own short legs.

Sarah firmed her chin.  "That's ridiculous.  I'm not going to desert you.  We beat Jareth's goblin armies once before, we can do it again."

"I'd rather run."

She was about to respond to Hoggle when a cry went up from a building behind them.

"Fire!"

Sarah swung around in alarm, her eyes widening when she did indeed see smoke roiling out of the windows of the nearest building.  "Come on, Hoggle," she said nervously.  "Let's get out of here."

With a loud cracking noise, flames began to bellow from every inch of the building.  As both Sarah and Hoggle looked on in relative horror, the flames jumped from building to building, faster than they had thought possible.  Goblins spilled from all around, running towards the fire, carrying buckets of water.  Within a minute, the blaze was flush up against the walls of Jareth's castle, but seemed to spread no further.

Sarah swallowed.  "Hoggle, we'll never get a better chance.  Let's hurry."

"I don't get it!" Hoggle exclaimed.  "The plaster those buildings are made of don't burn... Never have before."

Quelling a sudden sick feeling in her stomach at his words, Sarah grabbed his hand.  "No time to think now, Hoggle.  Before they get this thing under control, we've got to get out of here!"

This time, he listened, and with an inferno behind them, they turned and fled.

**********************************

A/N: What's going on here? How is inflammable material burning? _(Edited to add: by which, of course, I mean that I'm an idiot.__  Inflammable means the same thing as flammable.  Duh.  *hits self on head* I did mean not flammable.  Really.) _What on earth is going through Hoggle's head? What have twelve years done to Didymus and Ludo? And do we want to see Jareth's underwear again?

All of that and more, still ahead!


	7. seven

Sarah and Hoggle ran without stopping until they reached the mountains of garbage outside of the city limits. On the way out, they had spotted by several goblins, but the goblins had all seemed far too preoccupied with the fire to raise the alarm.

Collapsing against a pile of garbage, Sarah panted, trying to catch her breath. "We...made it...Hoggle!" she said triumphantly. Hoggle, who had his bulky hands braced against his knees and was also gasping, managed a weary nod.

Sarah would have been content to sit on the junk pile for a while, but she had to shift positions when she felt some sort of liquid soaking into her clothes. Springing to her feet, she sniffed at the back of her shirt and made a face. "That smells _disgusting_! What is it?"

Hoggle snorted. "Goblin garbage. Could be worse."

"True," Sarah conceded, remembering the Bog of Eternal Stench. "It could be much worse." She glanced back at the city, at the billowing dark smoke that covered it. "Hoggle," she said hesitantly, "what happened?"

The small goblin followed her gaze. He shrugged. "Don't know. I ain't never seen nothing like it before. Goblin City ain't supposed to be able to burn."

"Why?" Sarah asked.

Hoggle's protruding eyes held a suspicious expression. Evidently deciding that Sarah's interest was genuine, he grunted. "If you had a city full of goblins, you'd want to keep it from burning. So _he _did something about it. No one knows what. It's just one of the things about this place, little lady. The city don't burn."

"Apparently it does," she replied quietly. There was something niggling at the back of her mind...something that Jareth had said. Each time she thought she knew what it was though, it slipped right out of her grasp.

Hoggle shrugged. "If it got us out of the city without being followed, I ain't inclined to ask questions. Let's..." He let out a sound of disgust. "Let's go see Didymus at the bridge."

Sarah nodded, a small grin on her face as she thought of brave, foolish Didymus. He tried so hard to be a knight in shining armor that he forgot to use armor. "Does he still have Ambrosius?"

Hoggle looked away, but not before she had seen a strange sheen on his eyes. "More or less," he said gruffly. "Let's get moving."

"Okay..." Sarah said slowly, sure that there was something that Hoggle wasn't telling her. Brushing dust from her clothes, she took Hoggle's hand and they began to wind their way through the mass of junk.

As they walked, she craned her head this way and that, trying to see the Labyrinth beyond the garbage. This was the only part of the maze that she hadn't been through before. Last time she had passed this way, she had been trapped in a dream of bubbles and masks, and of a handsome man who had danced with her and promised her his heart. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the memories, but they wouldn't go away.

Of all her time in the Labyrinth, it was the ballroom in the bubble that had haunted her most all these years. During those moments when her baby brother had left her mind entirely, she'd felt something that she'd never felt before, or – she had to admit it to herself – ever since. Sarah had spent years convincing herself that the yearning she had felt while being whirled around the glimmering dance floor wasn't real, that it had been the product of the magic peach Hoggle had given her. The emotion she had tasted had been so pure and so strong that her fourteen-year-old body hadn't known what to do with it. Since then, every time she'd been with a man, she'd tested herself, trying to feel the ecstasy she had known...and inevitably hated herself for failing. Though she'd striven to hide her disappointment from her boyfriends, she always had the feeling that they knew; surely they'd seen the look on her face, heard the melancholy in her voice. Maybe it was why Brian had –

Sarah winced, cutting that thought off. The hurt was still too fresh. That was another reason to hate Jareth, she thought grimly. He had ruined her for any other man.

They were only partway through on the way to the Labyrinth when a shrill voice sounded right next to Sarah's ear. "So it's you again, is it, dearie? I know you'd come back sooner or later, ohhh, I definitely knew! Did you come back for your things?"

Sarah winced away and covered her ears with her hands. "Oh, no," she groaned. "It's _you_."

As Agnes the Junk Heap moved to stand in front of Sarah with surprising agility, considering the mounds of trash on her back, Sarah and Hoggle shared an unhappy look.

"Well, of _course_ it's me, my dear," Agnes said in a voice that was as close to effusive as she could come. "This place is my home." She crossed her stumpy arms and stared up at Sarah. "But you? This place isn't your home."

"Of course not," Sarah said. "Why would I want to live in a junk heap?"

A gleam lit Agnes' beady eyes. "I wasn't talking about the junk heap, dearie." She paused. "But I've still got all your things for you, yes, I do! There's the little horsie, and your lipstick, and your pretty music box, and oh!" She rummaged around and produced a teddy bear, which she held out to Sarah. "I still have _this_. You want _this_, don't you?"

Sarah sighed. "It's not real. None of it is. Don't you remember, we _went_ through this already?"

"Of course it's real!" Agnes cried. "What about _this_?" She held out a journal. Though Sarah knew not to be swayed by Agnes' tricks, she involuntarily held out her hand as Agnes flipped through it, and Toby's familiar handwriting leapt out at her. Agnes smiled and made to place the journal in Sarah's hand.

Before the journal touched Sarah, though, Hoggle slapped it to the ground. Sarah started, having almost forgotten that Hoggle was with her.

"None of that," Hoggle told Agnes sternly. "The little lady's with me."

Somehow, Agnes managed to look exactly like a kindly grandmother who's just been caught playing an innocent trick on her roly-poly grandchildren. "Why, I was just _offering_," she said. "A gift for an unlikely reunion."

Sarah squatted down and looked Agnes in her ratlike eyes. "I want none of it," she said, "not even the journal. It's not real. My little brother is real, and he's out there somewhere," she waved in the direction of the Labyrinth. "So just let me be on my way. Nothing you have could possibly interest me." She stood up. "Come on, Hoggle. We have to go."

As Sarah and Hoggle walked away without another word, Hoggle glanced back at Agnes, who was staring darkly at him. The two goblins shared an unreadable look. After a moment, Hoggle shrugged sadly and waddled off after Sarah.

Within moments, they were at the edge of the garbage, and Sarah stared out over the Labyrinth. Every time she saw it, it staggered her with its enormity. Somewhere out there, Toby was slaying his own dragons. She had to find him.

"Somehow," she whispered, "I _will._"

"What's that, Sarah?" Hoggle was looking up at her.

"Nothing." She turned to look out over the expanse again. "Do you think he's noticed yet?"

"Who?"

"Jareth. Do you think he's noticed that I'm missing?" Ridiculously, she felt herself blushing.

If Hoggle noticed the blush, he didn't mention it. "If he hasn't yet, he will soon. We should hurry."

Sarah nodded. "Right."

Taking a deep breath, they descended the hill. Neither one noticed the high winds blowing through the mountains of garbage behind them. Nor did they notice the mountains teetering and collapsing. Only Hoggle, with his sharp ears, heard Agnes' scream, but it was cut off abruptly. He didn't allow himself to turn around.

"So," Sarah asked as they walked through the dark forest, "what have you been doing for the past twelve years, Hoggle?"

"What do you mean?"

Sarah looked down, alarmed by his surly tone. Hoggle had never been one for steady moods, but if he sounded this angry, there had to be a reason. "Well," she stumbled over her words, "I just mean, well, it's been a long time since I was here. So...what's happened in the meantime?"

Walking by her side, he looked straight ahead, his wrinkly face pursed. "For me? I went back to guarding the gate."

"And...?"

"That's it."

Sarah stumbled over a root. She caught herself on a nearby branch and stared at Hoggle, who hadn't bothered to pause. "That's it?" she said in disbelief. "For the last twelve years, you've...stood outside the Labyrinth and guarded the gate?"

A grunt in the affirmative was her only answer.

Brushing the bits of bark off of her hand, she hurried after him. "But, Hoggle, that's so...so... Didn't you want to do anything else?"

"At one time, guarding the gate was more than enough for me."

"But it's not anymore, is it, Hoggle?" Sarah asked softly.

Now he stopped, and looked up at her. His large round eyes held an expression she couldn't read. "Not since you was here before."

"Oh, Hoggle," she said sadly, "what have I done to you?"

He shrugged, looking down again. "Taught me that there was more than guarding a gate and doing what _he_ told me to do."

"Then...why couldn't you..." She gestured wildly. "Why couldn't you do something else? Get another, um, job?"

"Things must be easy where you come from," he said in disgust. "If you don't like what you're doing, you can just pick up and go do something else. Well, it don't work that way here, Sarah."

"I'm...sorry," she said in bewilderment. "How does it..."

"I'm the gatekeeper!" Hoggle snapped. "That's what I am, and that's how I have to stay. I can't go up to Jareth and ask to be reassigned. I was created for one thing, and I can't go gettin' above my station and...hoping for something else."

Sarah sighed, ashamed. She'd never really considered before how her visit might have affected others. Like any typical self-absorbed teenager, she'd just assumed that all of the inhabitants of the goblin world would just pop back to normal once she left, as though she had never been there. And it seemed that the _world,_ at least, had returned to normal, if Didymus' bridge was back. But Hoggle had changed, and probably, her other friends had changed too.

_Jareth hasn't changed_, a treacherous voice in her head whispered. She frowned. Now, _that_ she wasn't sure about. On the surface, he seemed to be exactly the same: cocksure, imperious, and damned sexy. But beneath that, when he had talked candidly to her, she'd caught a hint of something else, something that she hadn't seen last time, or at least, she didn't remember seeing. What was it, though? Pain? Bitterness? Exhaustion? Or all three?

She shook her head, and looked down at Hoggle. "Hoggle, I'm so sorry," she said with all of the sincerity that she could muster. "I had no idea. If I'd known what it would do to you, I wouldn't ever have—"

"Oh, yes, you would," Hoggle interrupted. "You wouldn't have done a thing differently, Sarah, 'cause you was who you was, and you was selfish." She stared at the ground, her ears burning. "It's okay," he said quickly, seeing her embarrassment. "I wouldn't done anything differently either, 'cause it was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Really?" she glanced up at him.

The hope in her face made him turn bashful. "Yeah..." He scuffed his shoe on the ground. "I mean, I never got to do fun stuff or break the rules before. And I never had a...a..." He looked up at her, then seemed to change his mind about something. "A friend. Before you, I never had one, and never was one."

"And you still have Ludo and Didymus as friends, even when I'm not here," Sarah said softly.

"Yeah, but that ain't the point. The _point_ is that I don't regret meeting you, even after the last twelve years." He shrugged. "At least now I know what I'm missin'."

Tears in her eyes, Sarah went down on her knees and hugged the little goblin tightly. He may have been grouchy and ugly and not a little abrasive, but he had to be the most loyal friend she had ever had.

Though he grumbled and patted her back awkwardly, Sarah could tell that he was pleased with the hug. As she stood up again, he _harrumph_ed and said, "Well, come on, then. We don't got all day, little lady."

She smiled and nodded. "Of course. I can't wait to see Didymus again!"

Long before they reached the Bog of Eternal Stench, Sarah could smell it. She didn't know why the pervasive stench surprised her. Had she really expected it to have stopped smelling in the past twelve years?

Involuntarily, she gagged. The smell that reached her nose was even worse than she'd remembered. It smelt of rotting fish and...and... She couldn't even identify what it reminded her of. Wiping her streaming eyes with a hand, she noticed that Hoggle was surreptitiously doing the same.

"So," Sarah said, trying to breathe entirely through her nose, "do you visit Didymus often?"

Hoggle's voice sounded similarly nasal. "With this smell? Are you _kidding_?"

"Does he come to visit you at the gate?"

"And leave his precious bridge?" Hoggle snorted. "You've been gone a long time, but you can't have forgotten _that_ much about him."

"So," Sarah said, trying not to sound like she was nagging, "when _do_ you get to see him?"

"I'm in the area maybe once or twice a year."

"So little?" Sarah exclaimed. "But you must get so lonely!"

"Yeah, but sometimes the loneliness is better."

"_Better_? Hoggle, what are you talking about?"

He shot her a sideways glance. "You'll see."

They rounded a particularly bulbous, misshapen tree, and there it was. The Bog of Eternal Stench. The swamp had become even more depressing and drab in the last twelve years, if that was possible. Sarah, however, tried to ignore the Bog and to look beyond it, to see if she could see Didymus' small figure.

Hoggle tugged at the bottom of her shirt hem. When she turned to look questioningly at him, he pointed off to their left. "The bridge is over there."

"Of course," Sarah said quickly, and unconsciously doubled her pace. The bridge was, in fact, there. It looked as rickety as it ever had. As she stepped up to the edge of the bog, straining to see Didymus, a small figure leapt in front of her.

"Halt!" it cried. "None may pass!"

She jumped back, startled. As she attempted to regain her balance, her foot caught on a patch of weeds, and she went tumbling to the ground, landing squarely on her rear.

"Ouch," she moaned. Then she looked up at the goblin that had surprised her, and to her embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes. "Sir Didymus?"

The small fox-goblin, who had been growling as viciously as he could, now looked confused. His visible eye blinked once, twice, three times. "Aye, that is my name. Err... Have I had the pleasure of—" Once he saw Hoggle hovering by Sarah's side, his words choked themselves off, and he took a much closer look at Sarah... So close that his pointed snout took up her entire field of vision. When he pulled back, his little face had an expression of wonder on it. "Is it... Milady Sarah?"

Sarah smiled broadly, her eyes still full of tears. "Yes, Didymus. It's me."

Didymus drew himself up to his full height, which was still very diminutive, and made as though to kiss Sarah's hands. Sarah, however, grabbed him, and pulled him in for a tight hug. She'd wanted to hug him and stroke him for twelve years, so soft and silky did his fur look. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only reason she was hugging him.

If she was hugging him, she didn't have to look at him.

The years had been extraordinarily cruel to Didymus. Once, his fur had been thick and lustrous. Now there were large patches of his body where there was no fur at all. Thick scars criss-crossed all of his exposed skin. His face, while still noble, looked old and tired. Perhaps most horrible of all, one of his legs had apparently been cut off.

Still holding Didymus to her tightly, Sarah stared up at the sky, trying to find the strength to look at him again.

She only let him go when she realized that he was making squawking noises into her shirt. As she reluctantly relinquished her grip on him, he pulled back with an expression of wounded dignity.

"My _Lady_!" he said with chagrin. "It is not proper for a knight to have physical contact with his lady fair!"

Sarah felt an absurd urge to giggle, but she suppressed it, knowing that Didymus did not find it funny at all. "I'm sorry, Didymus. I'm just so very glad to see you."

Didymus sat down on a nearby log with an obvious expression of relief. "And I you, my lady. Whatever befalls me, I shall have the comfort of having seen your kind face again."

Sarah looked at Hoggle, who had seated himself right next to Didymus. He, however, didn't meet her eyes. "Didymus, what's happened to you?" she asked frankly.

Didymus coughed embarrassedly. "I must apologize for appearing before you like this. No lady should be subjected..."

"No, don't apologize!" Sarah exclaimed, holding up a hand to silence him. "When I said that I'm happy to see you, I didn't lie. I never expected to have a chance to, and now here you are! But..." she paused. "You've been hurt."

"Aye." Didymus shook his head ruefully. "Some knaves refused to admit when they were beaten fair and square. It really is nothing, Lady Sarah. No wound can stop me from guarding this bridge with my life!" he cried with a hint of his old zeal.

"He's lyin'," Hoggle said flatly. "It ain't nothing, Sarah. A few years ago, he got into a fight with a man who was trying to get through the Labyrinth."

"A human did this to you?" She looked at Didymus' old injuries with fresh horror in her eyes.

Didymus bristled, his sharp little teeth showing. "He tried to cross without first obtaining my permission. Naturally, I did my utmost to prevent him."

"How did he..." She trailed off, not sure how to ask.

"The rogue was carrying a concealed knife. _Most_ ungentlemanly, I tell you," Didymus said indignantly.

"Didymus, I'm so..." Sarah choked a bit. "So very sorry."

He stretched his foxy face in a horrible satire of a true smile. "Think not on it, my lady! Why, I barely even notice my...infirmity."

She very much doubted that he barely noticed that one of his legs was missing, but she was inclined to waste her time with him arguing the point. There was something else that was bothering her, though. "Didymus?" she asked quietly. "Where...where is Ambrosius?"

Didymus looked away, but not before she saw the heartbroken expression on his face. "Ambrosius? He's...over there." He waved a little hand at a nearby copse of trees.

Sarah heaved herself to her feet, and walked over to the trees, already dreading what she would find there. Pulling the hanging branches aside, she gazed in, fresh tears in her eyes.

Right in the middle of the small grove was a small circular mound of dirt with a stone placed on top. Carved into the stone, in childish letters, were the words, "AMBROSIUS. LOYAL FRIEND AND STEED."

She miserably crouched down next to the grave and looked at it in silence. Ambrosius had been so like her beloved Merlin, so sweet and vulnerable. Remembering how Ambrosius had carried Sir Didymus into battle, then turned and ran at the last moment, she choked back a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. She didn't even realize that she was no longer alone until Didymus spoke next to her, his voice heavy.

"He fell honorably in battle." He shook his head. "He was growing elderly, Milady Sarah. 'Twas probably for the best." Despite his words, Sarah could see how his eyes were shining. He swayed in place, attempting to keep his tenuous balance on his single leg. Without a word, Sarah offered a hand. He took it with gratefulness, though she knew that he would never admit to having needed it.

"He was a wonderful..." Sarah paused. She wasn't sure whether to refer to Ambrosius as a dog or as a horse. In the end, she just settled for saying, "He was wonderful."

"That he was. That he was." Didymus looked up at her, again stretching his face into that horrible parody of a smile. "But enough of sadness, Lady. What fortunate stars have led you to visit us again?"

"It's a long story," Sarah sighed, still unable to take her eyes away from the still grave where the white sheepdog lay. "My little brother is attempting to solve the Labyrinth, and I'm trying to help him."

"Your little brother!" Didymus exclaimed. "Is he the same...?"

"One and the same," Sarah confirmed. "Though I haven't the slightest clue why I got dragged in too...but I am very happy to be here," she added hastily, seeing the slightest droop of Didymus' ears.

"She was trapped in Jareth's castle," Hoggle put in from behind them. "So I went and got her."

"Most brave of you, Sir Hoggle," Didymus replied with approval. He paused. "My lady, I apologize for not recognizing you right away when you arrived. It...has been a long time."

"It has," Sarah agreed. "I grew up, so I don't look quite the same anymore."

Didymus sniffed. "You are not the same, but you are still my lady."

"Thank you... I think," Sarah said, slightly confused.

"So, Didymus," Hoggle said, "we're gonna go find Ludo and Sarah's brother. Do you want to come with us?"

"A noble quest, to be sure," Didymus replied. He glanced back at Ambrosius' grave. "However, I do not think I can join you this time. I must guard the bridge, as well as my loyal friend's resting place."

"C'mon, Didymus," Hoggle wheedled. "Don't you want to see Ludo?"

"Of course I hunger to see my gentle brother again," Didymus said stiffly, "but I have made vows, and I must honor them."

"This may be your last chance," Hoggle warned.

Sarah didn't like something in the tone of his voice, though she couldn't put her finger on it. "Hoggle," she chided, "if Didymus can't go with us, then we have to accept that."

"Noble lady," Didymus said, leaning over to kiss her hand, "as always, you have an understanding heart."

Ignoring his protesting yip, she grabbed Didymus for one more hug. He felt so fragile that she was worried that the slightest pressure would break him, so she gently released him and rose to her feet.

"Perhaps we will see you on the way back to the castle?" she offered.

He bowed, swaying back and forth. "I should be most gratified to offer you safe conduct across the Bog at that time."

"Thank you," she smiled warmly at him.

"And," he added, "give my fondest greetings to my dear brother, Ludo."

"Of course!" Sarah kissed him on the head, then turned and walked towards the bridge, closely followed by Hoggle, who kept glancing backwards worriedly.

"And tell thy brother that he shall receive safe passage too!" Didymus called after them. There was a short pause. "And you have my permission to cross the bridge!" he yelled frantically.

As Sarah stepped onto the bridge, she giggled a little. After everything that had happened to him, his greatest concern was still the silly bridge. As she crossed, she held her breath, but this crossing was far less eventful than the last. Both she and Hoggle made it safely to the other side of the bridge, then turned to wave at Didymus one last time.

"So, Hoggle?" Sarah asked as they resumed their walk. "Do you have any idea where we might find Ludo?"

Hoggle made a noise deep in his throat. "Not sure. He don't have much of any specific duty, like Didymus and me. But if I was to guess—"

He was cut off as horrible crashing noises sounded behind them, topped off with a high yelp of pain.

Sarah froze. Then she turned around, and walked back towards the Bog, slowly at first, then running as fast as she could. She dashed across the bridge, not even noticing how it wobbled. Her only thought was for Didymus.

As she skidded to a halt, her eyes surveyed the sudden devastation that lay in front of her. Her heart began to pound wildly. Somehow, in the last few seconds, every tree in sight had toppled to the ground.

She hurried towards the remains of the copse. At the sight that met her eyes, an anguished cry was torn from her soul. "_Didymus!_"

**Author's Note:** Wow. I updated. And it only took me, um, four months. I'm so sorry that it took so long, but y'all know how real life is. Damn you, real life! And can I just say that I love Didymus a whole lot? Because after Jareth, he's my second favorite character in the movie. Let's just hope that my next update doesn't take me nearly as long...though knowing what I now know about what's about to happen, I doubt that it will. Thanks for reading!


	8. eight

Nauseated, Sarah dropped to her knees and attempted to gather what she could of Didymus into her arms. The small fox had been trapped under a tree as it fell, and only his head and the left side of his torso were visible. He blinked up at her, his eye dulled with pain, and attempted a small smile.

"Oh, Didymus," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Hold on. We'll move the tree and get you out of here, okay? Just hold on!"

"Sarah?" Her head snapped around. Hoggle was standing a few feet away, his eyes darting nervously between her and the tree. "How can we move that?"

"We just can, okay?" she snapped. Even as she spoke, though, she was aware that he was right. This tree hadn't been just some sapling; it had been large, and it had been heavy. It would take more than one woman and one goblin to move it off of Didymus. Feeling utterly helpless, she looked down at Didymus, whose head was resting on her lap.

"My lady," he whispered, bringing his left hand up to rest weakly on top of hers, "it...was...an...honor..."

And then he died. There was nothing poetic, or beautiful, or even surprising about it. He simply sighed a little, and then he wasn't there anymore. There was only the shell that had once been Didymus.

"Oh, no," Sarah whispered around the lump in her throat. "Oh, no, no, no..." Behind her, Hoggle put a comforting hand on her shoulder, his head bowed in sorrow. For a moment, Sarah was silent, rocking back and forth, still holding on to Didymus' limp form. He felt so light...

She threw back her head and screamed her anger to the sky. It felt good. It felt really good. She was vaguely aware of Hoggle shying away from her, but that didn't matter. She had to scream, and to keep screaming, until her horror and her sadness drained away with her voice. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _fair!_ How could this happen? How? He had been fine, and then he was gone, and it just wasn't _fair!_

"Ah, god," Sarah wept. "This can't be real!" Her tears fell onto Didymus' face and slowly rolled down to land on the ground. Suddenly, the horror of holding a dead creature in her arms dawned on her, and she instinctively attempted to scramble away.

As she pulled back, her hand caught on Didymus' eye patch, which went tumbling off into a nearby bracken. Like a frightened child, she hid her face in her hands, not wanting to see what was beneath the eye patch. Her labored breathing sounded loudly in her ears.

Slowly, through her tears and hiccupping, she became aware that Hoggle was saying something and patting her on the shoulder.

"It's okay, little lady," he said softly, his voice hoarse, "you can look."

Peeking through her fingers and loose wisps of hair, she blinked away enough tears to look clearly at Didymus' peaceful face. She gasped. Though she had been expecting to see at best a bloody, oozing empty socket, all she saw was another eye, perfectly serviceable, and in every way identical to Didymus' other eye.

"Why?" she asked. It was the only word she could manage to choke out, but Hoggle understood.

"He thought it made him look dashing," Hoggle said sadly.

A giggle escaped through her sobs. That was Didymus, all right, who would do anything to be taken seriously. Though she wasn't sure why, she found the image of Didymus, who could see perfectly well, putting on an eye patch and preening to be hilarious. As she cried, her laughter continued to grow until she grabbed her sides, gasping for air. With Hoggle looking on in amazement, Sarah collapsed to the ground, rolling back and forth, giggling, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Uh, Sarah?" he asked slowly. "Are you...okay?"

"No!" she gasped out, still sobbing. "I'm..._not!_"

It seemed to take forever, but eventually, Sarah's hysterics subsided to quiet sobs, then to hiccups. Finally, she lay still against the large trunk, totally drained of all emotion except a bone-deep sadness.

"Hoggle?" she asked softly. "What's happening here?"

"What?" he asked. He sounded as exhausted as she felt.

She waved a limp hand at the destruction around them. "This. And the fire in Goblin City. What's happening?"

"_You_."

Sarah stared, her eyes flying wide open. That voice wasn't Hoggle's. Unfortunately, she knew exactly whose it was, and he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

"Go away, Jareth," she said wearily, not even bothering to look at him.

"Like hell I will!" he snapped, stomping into her line of vision so she had to look at him.

He looked furious. That, in and of itself, caught Sarah's tired eyes. She had never seen this expression on his face before. She had seen seduction, frustration, annoyance, even candor, but this was something entirely new. This was sheer, white-hot fury that rolled off him in waves that were almost tangible. The air around him seemed to crackle with his anger. Staring at him, Sarah truly believed for the first time that this man could kill without a second thought.

For a moment, she could think of nothing to say. Her mind was still far too filled with Ambrosius and Didymus to remember why Jareth would be angry with her. Come to think of it, she could barely remember why she was even really here.

"L—look," she stammered, "I'm sorry that I left the castle after—"

"After _what_?" he yelled angrily. "After you gave me your word not to? After you broke your _binding vow_?"

"I'm—I'm _sorry_," she said raggedly.

Jareth threw his arms in the air furiously. "Sorry? You run around my realm, murdering and destroying at will, and all you can think to say is _sorry_?" He started pacing back and forth, his mouth pursed in disapproval.

Sarah's mouth dropped open. "But I—I _didn't_—"

He scoffed loudly. "So bloody rational, aren't you? So goddamned grown-up and perfect." Pausing in front of her, he slammed his hands against the bark on either side of her head and thrust his face towards hers. Though she tried to look stoic, she couldn't help wincing. "You think," he said, his voice deadly calm and quiet, "that you haven't killed someone unless you've taken the knife and stabbed it right into their heart, twisting and seeing blood flow." One hand detached from the bark to grip her chin and turned her to face Didymus' broken body. "But I can assure you that he is dead because of you. As are several others."

"How can that be?" she whispered, tears flooding her eyes anew as she looked at Didymus. How _could_ it be? Didymus had been her friend. She would _never_ hurt him.

Jareth sighed in irritation. "You never bloody _listen_ to anyone, _do_ you? Your presence in _my_ Labyrinth has done…_this_." He waved his free hand at the destruction around them, the other hand still gripping her chin tightly enough that she was sure it would leave bruises. "You're so logical that you cause chaos here. The fire? Your fault. The wind that destroyed the junk mountains? Your fault. _This_? _Your_ fault."

Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "I…I didn't mean…"

He released her chin and wiped his hand on his pants, as though he'd touched something foul. "Of course you didn't _mean_ to. You're a bloody selfless woman." He snorted to show her what he thought of _that_. "However, you still did, even after I warned you in the most serious terms I could use. I stand by what I said earlier. You don't belong here."

"Fine." She dragged her hand across her eyes roughly, feeling as though she were suddenly very old. "Fine. So…" She exhaled loudly. "So maybe I…don't belong here." Admitting that took more out of her than she would have thought possibly, but she doggedly continued. "What are you going to do with me? Are you going to lock me up?"

"The thought appeals," Jareth replied shortly. "And I fully intend to deal with you shortly. However, first…" He looked away from her and said in an imperious voice, "You! Hogwort! Just _where _do you think you're going?"

Sarah followed the direction of his gaze to find a guilt-ridden Hoggle attempting to sneak away into the undergrowth. "Hoggle!" she exclaimed, surprised that he would be deserting her now, of all times. "Where – What are you…" Sarah trailed off as a sudden, horrific idea occurred to her. "Oh no," she gasped. "You didn't. You _didn't_."

"He did," Jareth confirmed, his voice cold and flinty. "He knew. You knew, didn't you, you little _toad_?" he continued, switching his attention to the wincing Hoggle. "You knew what removing her from my castle would do. You knew perfectly well what would happen. And yet you chose to spit upon your kind and destroy us all."

Hoggle linked his hands behind his back and twisted his foot against the ground in a manner so human that Jareth managed to look even more disgusted than before. "Wasn't that exactly. You didn't have no right to keep her there. She didn't want to stay."

Jareth strode over to Hoggle in a few quick steps and hoisted the smaller goblin off of the ground by his collar. "_She_ gave me a binding oath that she would stay. And _she_, as she is so intent on reminding us, is an adult, capable of making her own decisions." He tossed a glance at Sarah that was so contemptuous that she felt as though she were shriveling up to nothing right in front of him. "But _you_, Hoghead…" He abruptly dropped Hoggle, as if the mere touch made Jareth feel dirty. "Tell me. It wasn't really because of her, was it? _Was_ it?"

Under Jareth's withering gaze, Hoggle too seemed to shrink. "It wasn't fair. I – we got to be important when she was here. And then she disappeared and left us with nothing."

"Nothing? _Nothing_, tra-la-la?" Jareth snapped, setting off a small wave of déjà vu in Sarah. "You had as much as you had before she came. No, more. You had your memories."

"And what good did those memories do?" Hoggle said loudly, looking directly at Jareth for the first time. "They made us sad because she was the only interesting thing that ever happened to us. When she left and stopped calling us, we didn't have no reason left to live! What good's an eternity when you don't got nothing to look forward to?" He crossed his stubby arms.

"So," Jareth said in a quiet voice that was almost more terrifying than his yelling, "you decided that because you personally had nothing left, none of us should exist. Is _that_ it?"

Sarah, who had remained silent during this short exchange, could no longer remain silent. "H—Hoggle?" she managed to choke out. "Is he right?" Hoggle didn't speak, but his sullen look at the ground was as much of an answer as any number of words could have been. "Oh, _Hoggle_. You… Didymus…" She shook her head, unable to speak any more.

"He would've thanked me," Hoggle replied sullenly. "If he'd known, he would've. You saw him, little lady. He had nothing left. Not even Ambrosius."

"…And Ludo?" Sarah asked. "If we'd made it that far, would the same thing have happened?" Again, there was no answer but for that which was shining in his eyes. "I can't believe this," she breathed. "You wanted to kill your old friends?"

"That ain't it!" Hoggle exclaimed. "But – Sarah – I can't bear to watch 'em die bit by bit every year. Better all at once."

She couldn't look at him anymore. It hurt too much. Staring at the ground, she whispered, "You used me to kill them," and shook her head.

Above her, Jareth's disdainful voice spoke up again. "Are you both quite satisfied now? Or do you hunger for more?"

"That's not fair," Sarah replied, hating the note of pleading in her voice. "You think I wanted this to happen?"

"Of course it's not fair, you silly, stupid girl." Jareth pressed his lips together firmly for a moment. "But the fact remains that you broke your promise."

Lost in her misery, Sarah looked up directly at him. She could never know the effect that she had on him in that moment. With her eyes nearly black with sadness, tear-streaked skin, and her hair hanging loose around her face, she looked so like the girl who had captured his attention that, for a moment, he nearly forgave her. However, his mercurial mind quickly reminded him of her treachery. She had dared to grow up, and in so doing, had nearly destroyed everything he held dear. The momentary softness gone, he hardened his heart again.

"So I broke my promise," Sarah said dully. "Do what you will to me. It doesn't really matter."

Jareth crouched down in front of her, taking his eyes away from hers only to shoot Hoggle a glance that would have frozen him in his tracks even if he had been trying to escape again. "It doesn't matter?" he repeated softly. "I think we both know that's not true. You can lie to yourself, Sarah, but you cannot lie to me. I do not envy you. Your punishment would be harsh already, but I'm afraid that your guilt is not enough. Not for this." He lowered his voice even further. "I thought I must let you stay because I thought the Labyrinth had some purpose in bringing you here, but it appears I was wrong. If the Labyrinth had any purpose in bringing you here, your actions have cancelled it out. I hope you enjoyed having a brother, Sarah. In the end, good memories are all we have."

Before Sarah had a chance to ask him what he meant by his cryptic words, he waved one of his hands almost casually in the air and the world went dark for an instant.

There was no feeling of traveling, or of being in any sort of transitory state. It was simply as though she blinked. As her lids swept downwards, they covered Jareth's face with darkness, and as the light came back, she found herself in her room at home, quite alone.

She stood up with a gasp. Though a portion of her wanted to sit there and tremble like a frightened child, Sarah knew that she had no time for any of that. She was out of the Labyrinth, and only one thing mattered.

"T—Toby?" she called out. "_Toby_?" Still swaying slightly on her feet, Sarah threw open her door and hurried down the hall to her room. She was too focused upon her goal to notice the slight incongruities in the house. If she'd lingered a bit longer, she might have noticed that all of the pictures of Toby had vanished into thin air, and the tell-tale traces of a pre-pubescent boy's presence in the house had likewise gone. If she'd lingered, perhaps she wouldn't have been so surprised when she threw open the door to his bedroom.

Because there was nothing in his bedroom.

She clutched the doorframe, her knuckles whitening within seconds.

Now Jareth's final words made sense: _"I hope you enjoyed having a brother, Sarah_._"_

"No," she whispered. Then louder, "_No._ Please, no…"

It changed nothing. Toby didn't appear and grin at her. How could he, after all? He was just gone, as though he had never existed. _"In the end, all we have are good memories."_

Jareth's sardonic voice echoing in her head, Sarah sank to the floor and gazed, blank-eyed, upon the empty room which had once belonged to her brother.

_Author's Note:_ Right. I, apparently, am a big fat liar. I cannot be trusted to update, because as soon as I finish one chapter, I completely forget that I'm expected to write another. Well. Here's hoping that enough people beat me over the head with sticks to keep me writing.


	9. nine

Sarah knelt in the doorway of the room that had once been Toby's for a long time – or perhaps, as she was unhappily forced to amend, the room that _might_ once have been Toby's. She wanted to think, to come up with some rational explanation for the empty bedroom, but her mind refused to work correctly. It wouldn't even race; rather, it just moved sluggishly from one half-coherent thought to another. There was only one sentence that stuck in her head at all.

_Toby is gone_.

She pressed a hand to her aching chest and tried to breathe. Surely Jareth wasn't so cruel, so filled with unyielding rage, as to completely erase her little brother from existence? Small comfort though it was, she tried to cling to that thought, but memories of the cold fury on the Goblin King's face eroded her tenuous hope.

Later she would wonder how much time passed while she huddled in the doorway, grasping for any sort of sensible thought. It might have been mere minutes, or perhaps it was hours. All Sarah knew was that the nightmare she'd hidden from everyone for twelve years had suddenly, horribly turned to truth.

Finally, she was stunned back to awareness by the ringing of the telephone. Her immediate instinct was just to let it ring, to let the answering machine get it. When the little voice in her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, it was somehow Toby on the other end of the phone, Sarah stumbled to her feet. Wincing at the pain in her knees, she muttered a broken curse and dashed for the nearest phone.

Just as the fourth ring sounded, she skidded into the master bedroom and grabbed for the phone.

"Hello?" she gasped out, well aware of how frazzled she sounded. Deep down, a piece of her winced at being heard so out-of-sorts, but the majority of Sarah told that piece to get stuffed, that there were more important things to worry about. She held her breath, waiting, hoping that whoever was on the other end hadn't hung up.

There was a short silence on the other end of the phone. A hesitant voice spoke. "Sarah? Is that you?"

Sarah closed her eyes against the rush of tears. It wasn't Toby on the other end, it was her stepmother. "Hello, Ruth," she replied dully. "Yes, it's me."

"Are you all right? You sound upset."

Licking her lips, Sarah briefly contemplated what to say. On one hand, she didn't want to needlessly upset Ruth and her father, but on the other hand… This wasn't exactly needless. Saying something to Ruth might be her only way to find out if Jareth had magicked Toby entirely out of existence.

"I'm okay, it's just…It's… Well, it's slightly hard to explain," Sarah ventured. "It's about Toby."

Immediately, the silence on the other end of the line changed. Ruth didn't say a word or even make a sound, but the air was now charged with tension and with reproachful words never spoken. Sarah could read the silence as easily as she breathed, but she couldn't figure out exactly what it portended. She was, however, soon to find out.

Ruth's voice, when she finally spoke, was filled with bitter censure. "That's not funny."

"I'm not joking," Sarah replied warily. "Toby's vanished, and I'm not exactly sure what to do…" She trailed off, unsure as to what, if anything, else she should say. Listening in shock, Sarah heard strange noises begin to emanate from the phone. It was a strange sniffling, gasping sort of sound.

When Sarah realized that Ruth was sobbing, her hand flew to her mouth. Before she could think to say anything, a loud crash sounded in her ears, presumably the sound of Ruth dropping the phone onto the floor.

"Ruth!" Sarah yelled. "Ruth, are you all right?" She waited tensely, hearing unidentifiable sounds from the earpiece. Finally, there came the fumbling noise of someone picking up the phone, and her father's tired voice emerged.

"Sarah, it's Dad. Are you okay? What did you say to Ruth?"

"D—Dad," Sarah stuttered, "I'm not – I mean, it's Toby. He's gone."

Her father sighed, a deep, unhappy sound. "Sarah, have you been napping?"

Caught off-guard, she blinked several times before replying. "I – no… Why do you ask?"

"Because if you were only half-awake when you said that to Ruth, it would be understandable. Lord knows I've spent enough nights being woken up when she's had dreams that Toby's come back."

"Come – back…" Sarah repeated dumbly.

"If you weren't napping, I can't imagine what _possible_ reason you could have had to say that to her, Sarah. That's cruel and in very bad taste."

"I'm sorry," she managed. "I didn't mean –"

"Listen, I have to go take care of your mother," Sarah bit her lip to keep quiet, "so why don't you get some sleep? You sound like you're falling apart too."

"Dad, I – "

"I'll talk to you later, Sarah." There was a gentle _click_ on the other end, and Sarah was left holding the phone, staring at the mouthpiece as though something more enlightening than the dial tone would emerge.

She whispered, "I don't understand," but inside, she was all too afraid that she did. Gently, Sarah hung up and dazedly drifted over to the door.

At first, her movements were slow, but as she walked down the hill, she quickened her steps until she hit the stairs at a full run. Somehow she made it down the stairs without losing her balance and breaking her neck. Skidding around a corner, she found herself in her father's home office.

A few more strides brought her over to the large desk that dominated the room. Falling to her knees, she tore open the drawers, strewing their contents all over the floor, searching through them desperately. Her efforts yielded nothing but mess with the first drawers.

Finally, there was but one drawer left, the one at the very bottom. Though she dreaded what she might find, she didn't hesitate as she ripped the drawer open and dumped its contents on the floor.

Amongst the various contents lying topsy-turvy on the shag carpeting, a newspaper clipping caught her eye. She snatched it up, her eyes widening as she read the headline: "**Baby Disappears From Crib: Tearful Parents Plead For Return**."

As though she were dreaming, she set the clipping aside and began rummaging through the other contents of that final, bottom drawer. There were several more newspaper clippings, which she set aside with the first. Finally, satisfied that she wasn't missing anything, she picked up the first clipping and began to read.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Sarah sat back, utterly stunned, but with a fairly clear picture of what had occurred whirling in her mind.

It seemed that she'd been babysitting for her young brother when he'd disappeared completely from his crib in her parents' room. Her father and Ruth had filed kidnapping charges, and it had become a widely-publicized case within the city. The family had gone on TV to plead for their son's safe release, but no evidence had ever come to light. The baby had just been gone without even fingerprints to incriminate the kidnappers. For several days, it appeared, Sarah had been the prime suspect, but after numerous questionings, the police had been forced to admit that the teenage sister had nothing to do with the disappearance.

And that had been the end of it. Toby had never been returned, and presumably Ruth and Sarah's father had never gotten over it. Sarah hid her face in her hands, thinking that it was no wonder that they had reacted so negatively to her mention of Toby. Considering, especially, that they must have suspected her slightly of being involved at some point, the fact that she had brought up Toby now must have been especially painful.

It must have, Sarah thought dully, been the night that it had all begun: the night that she, in an immature fit, had wished Toby away, and the Goblin King had so quickly obliged.

She must have failed on her trip through the Labyrinth; it was the only explanation that made any sense. She had failed, and Toby had been forced to stay and become a goblin. It was as though Jareth had changed the reality around her while leaving her memories cruelly intact and with the knowledge that short of him relenting, she would never see her baby brother again.

He could hardly have done anything more pitiless.

She had not thought him capable of, well, _this_. Even knowing that he was a cruel man, the king of all goblins, even knowing that he didn't much care for her these days, she hadn't thought that he hated her _this_ much, wished this much pain upon her.

It wasn't even just Toby who was lost to her. It was Hoggle and Ludo, Didymus and Ambrosius. She clapped a hand to her mouth against the fresh rush of tears that thoughts of them brought.

In one day – in mere minutes – all the things that made life worth living had been stripped away from her. She knew that now. Though she had fought against the Labyrinth, though she had defied its – and his – efforts to change her mind back to how it used to be, her short time back there had been the most exhilarating, exciting time she could fathom in her recent memory.

Sarah couldn't deny it. Not anymore.

It did her no good anymore, but she was finally able to admit it to herself: she wanted to go back.

She wanted it all: adventure, romance, danger, her friends, her brother, and the man who now hated her. And it was selfish and immature of her to want so much, but she did, more than anything.

And she could have none of it. Not anymore.

Slowly, feeling as though she'd aged years in mere minutes, Sarah stumbled to her feet and trudged out of the office, leaving the contents of her father's desk scattered on the floor behind her.

...

The next days passed in a blur. Sarah could no more have defined how she spent her time than she could have defined Pi. Every now and again, she would look up and find herself eating, or showering, or even doing research. Five minutes later, though, she would again be lost in a miserable haze, and she wouldn't emerge again for hours.

She vaguely knew that she was going about her life – sometimes she even remembered being on the telephone and having conversations, but the content didn't matter, didn't interest her.

This state of non-being continued for at least a week. Sarah would have had no idea of time passing, but one day she distinctly remembered looking at the newspaper, and the date was eight days from the date she had first come home to find Toby on the couch.

She might have continued like this indefinitely, not really living, not really caring, but then one morning while climbing out of bed, her foot tangled in the sheet. Sarah lost her balance and crashed to the floor, landing hard on her stomach. The breath knocked out of her, her eyes opened up wide and she clutched at her stomach, writhing, finally fully alert.

It took several moments, but finally she could pull oxygen into her lungs without feeling as though she needed to vomit. Slowly, her hands relaxed, and she lay limp on the floor, quiet and drained. Though she was strangely exhausted, it finally felt as though the cobwebs obscuring her thoughts were gone. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, and then, once she felt strong enough, she sat up. Her hair, knotted and messy from sleep, surrounded her face like a halo as she looked around her room with mild curiosity.

It was as though she'd never really seen her room before. She took it all in, piece by piece. It was crowded and tasteless and filled with loud, angry colors.

"I hate this room," she said quietly, the words ringing loudly in the still house. "I _hate_ this room."

Slowly, still not quite sure what was going on or what she was doing, Sarah stood up and took a hesitant step towards one of her walls. She reached out and gently touched Billy Idol's smirking face. With a deep sigh, she reached up and curled her hand around the edge of the poster, and then… _Rrrrrip_!

It was deeply satisfying to tear the poster off the wall. A clean white space met her greedy eyes. With just a trace of a grin on her face, Sarah dropped the torn poster on the floor and reached for the next one.

It took Sarah the better part of the morning to clean out her room, and the remainder of the morning to clean up the mess she'd created. She lugged garbage bags up to her room and stuffed the torn posters and worthless pictures into one with great relish. The clothes took another three bags, but she didn't bother to fold them. She stuffed them into the bags, not caring one bit about any wrinkles.

After lugging the newly created trash out to the curbside, it was a sweaty Sarah who stood in the middle of her empty room, rotating around slowly to take in the fresh expanse of her walls. It had been years since her room felt so large.

Though her single-minded determination had carried her through the destruction of her room's old destruction, now she felt slightly at a loss. She wasn't sure how to redecorate the room. Even if she'd still had more of her old decorations, like her M.C. Escher prints, _Cats_ posters, and so on, she couldn't go back to those any more than she could – or would – go back to the rock star posters she'd just ripped from the walls. Neither of those quite fit her anymore.

She would have stood there puzzling over it for much longer, but then, suddenly, Sarah shrugged. It didn't really matter, and besides which, she kind of liked the idea of the clean, pure walls. They were almost like a clean slate: free of her past, free to decide her future.

"And if I can erase my past…" Sarah muttered quietly. She didn't finish the thought, but her meaning hung in the air as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud: _... then maybe I can somehow get things back to how they should be._ Even though she knew that she had no logical reason to think that there was anything she could do, she couldn't help it. It was irrational and it was idiotic, but there it was: a small, weak hope nestled just below her heart.

Feeling refreshed, Sarah heaved a sigh. She lifted her hair away from her sweaty neck and headed down the hall to take a much-deserved shower.

And for the first time in longer than she could remember at the moment, Sarah lingered in the shower for a good twenty minutes, simply enjoying the feel of hot needles of water beating against her shoulders and the slippery soap on her skin. It was utterly relaxing, and for once, she didn't spend time worrying about what she needed to accomplish in the day ahead.

Once she was clean, dry, and dressed, Sarah checked the time and was amazed to see that it was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon, and even more amazed that she didn't feel an immediate sense of guilt that she was wasting her day. What she _did_ feel, though, was hunger.

Heading downstairs to find some sort of breakfast, Sarah had to quicken her step when the phone started ringing. She skidded around the corner into the kitchen and snatched up the receiver just as the fourth ring sounded

"Hello?" she said, happy that she sounded composed and nearly normal.

"Sarah! Hon, what's going on? You said you'd call me this morning."

Sarah blinked in surprise. "B-Brian? I did?"

"Yeah, when I called last night. You said that you were busy and that you would call me back this morning, remember?" His familiar voice made a smile appear on her face.

"I'm sorry, Brian. It must have slipped my mind."

"It's okay. I've just been worried about you, that's all."

"Really?" Sarah asked curiously, her cheeks flushing. "You've been worried?"

"Yeah. You just haven't been yourself. I always tell you that you'll work yourself to death one of these days – I almost decided to stop by and make sure that you were okay."

"Well… Why didn't you?"

"Huh?"

Sarah bit her lip, a fragment of a suspicious memory trying to work its way to the surface. "Why _didn't_ you stop by? I would have loved to see you."

"Aaaaah…" For a brief moment, he sounded distinctly uncomfortable. "I know that you don't like unannounced visitors, and I just didn't want to bother you. Though," he added, a distinctly seductive tone entering his voice, "I've been thinking about you…"

"Oh yeah?" Sarah asked, the teasing note entering her own voice of its own accord. "Do tell…"

"Nothing in particular, really. Just… random lascivious thoughts to help me while away those long hours at work."

While away those long hours at work… 

Sarah laughed in response, but inside her mind, those words were bothering her. There was something in connection, in conjunction with those words that she _should_ remember, and she felt as though she needed to remember it right _now_.

"…Those long hours at work," she muttered. "…While away those long…"

"Sarah?" Brian asked. "What's wrong?"

And suddenly, there it was, as clear as if she'd had a recording of it in her brain: _"So I try to squeeze what enjoyment I can out of what is essentially quite tiring. How does that make me any worse than your boyfriend, who fools around with his boss to while away the long hours at work?"_ She gasped, the memory rushing back. Jareth had told her. He'd told her that Brian was cheating on her – he'd seen it.

"Brian," she said slowly, unable to help the hollow tone in her voice, "you've been cheating on me."

There was a brief, shocked silence on the other end of the phone. Then: "_What!_"

"You heard me, Brian." Her grip on the receiver became perceptibly tighter, and her knuckles began to whiten.

"S-Sarah! I'm _shocked_!"

"At being caught?"

"How could you just accuse me of something like this? This is t-totally out of the blue!"

"But it's true nonetheless," Sarah replied quietly, wondering why it didn't hurt more. _"And I'm not lying to you when I say that I viewed your lover stark naked and laboring away on top of another woman."_

"Sarah, I…" The hurt in his voice was real. It had to be. "How can you accuse me of this with no proof?"

It was true, she knew. She had no real proof. She hadn't seen him doing anything wrong, and he'd never acted as anything other than a loving boyfriend towards her. All she had was Jareth's word, and what was that really worth? The word of a sneaky, mean, vindictive man. The word of a man who'd twice stolen her brother. The word of the Goblin King.

"You can deny it if you want to, Brian, but I know that it's true. I _know_. I… I don't think it's going to work out between you and me."

"But – but, _Sarah_—"

"Good-bye, Brian." Ever so gently, ignoring the sound of his still-protesting voice, Sarah replaced the receiver. She stared at the phone for a moment, dazed at how quickly and relatively painlessly she'd ended the relationship that she'd once supposed to be The One.

Even to the last moment, she'd still hung onto her illusions of Brian being the man by her side, and it had hurt to accuse him. When she'd thought of Jareth's words and wondered if she could believe him, though, she'd realized right away that she believed Jareth over Brian without a single qualm. At that second, the pain had disappeared.

Now, though, she was no longer sure what to do. She was brotherless and single. She was without inspiration to work on her thesis and without any good friends to talk to.

All the same, though, her sense of desperation and hopelessness had lessened. Whether it was because of her unexpected room redecoration or because of her breaking up with Brian, Sarah believed that she might somehow, some way, take her destiny back into her own hands.

"I don't know how," she said firmly, still staring at the phone, "but I'm getting my life back. I'll find Jareth and I'll _make_ him listen to me. I'm taking my brother back. I'm taking my friends back. And…" She licked her lips, afraid to voice the final thought, but it had everything to do with the proud, arrogant man who haunted her dreams.


	10. ten

Despite her determined vow to fix everything that had gone wrong, Sarah's life began to settle into a calm, normal routine. As much as she would have loved to drop everything in her life and focus on nothing but finding ways to get back to the Labyrinth, she had obligations that she couldn't just ignore.

Her thesis, in particular, called to her. During the week or so that Sarah had been paralyzed by her misery, she'd gotten behind on her deadlines. In order to catch up to where she was supposed to be (approximately 50 typed pages), Sarah had to work like a speed demon and devote most of her hours to research and taking notes.

Brian tried to contact her more than once, but Sarah refused to listen, and even took to hanging up the instant she heard his voice on the other line. He stopped by her parents' house to visit her, since she hadn't been back to her apartment in a while, but she didn't answer the door when he knocked. He tried roses, chocolates, even tickets to the opera, but Sarah was unmoved. As far as she was concerned, he was wasting his time and money on a lost cause.

Any time that Sarah began to feel any pain over him, any weakening of her resolve, she would simply remind herself of Brian's infidelity, and the cracks in her armor would heal over immediately.

To force Brian even further from her mind, she would simply conjure up images of Jareth. Now that she'd admitted to herself that she had feelings – of a sort – for Jareth, she allowed herself to think about him as much as she wanted. Her heart would thump crazily in a way that she hadn't felt since she was young at the thought of his proud eyes that sometimes filled with heat when he looked at her, his trim yet masculine figure, and even the strange blond hair that looked every bit as soft as an owl's feather. Sarah couldn't even say what it was that she found so confoundedly attractive about him, but whatever it was, it made her ache to be near him. Her feelings were further heightened by the odd sense of relief that came from acknowledging the magnetic pull of the man. She'd denied it for twelve years, and now, owning up to it was almost like being healed after being in pain for so long that one would forget life without pain, would barely even _recognize_ it.

Then, however, Sarah would remember Toby and would immediately feel guilty that she entertained such lascivious thoughts about the man who had separated them and had done God-knows-what to her little brother. She refused to let herself believe that Toby had been utterly removed from existence; at worst, surely, he'd been turned into a goblin when she failed to rescue him in this strange, new timeline. At best, he'd been raised as a child to Jareth and a prince of the goblins… which, come to think of it, wasn't a fabulous alternative. She shuddered to think of her sensitive little brother being raised by a man whose idea of fun was putting frightened people through hell in order to snatch loved ones from a fate almost worse than death. Sarah tried to hate Jareth; goodness knows she tried as hard as she could, but hating him was no longer a possibility. Not for her.

And so she continued, day after day, thinking about them constantly, trying to come up with a plan of some sort. No matter how she scratched her head and puzzled over it all, though, she simply couldn't think of any way to get Jareth's attention or, at the very least, to get back to the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth didn't respond to her fervent wishes, which wasn't a particularly large surprise. She'd tried wishing for it many times, but not so much as a single pathetic goblin showed up in response. The first time she'd gotten extremely frustrated and had screamed for Jareth to come and face her, but… still nothing. She'd been forced to conclude that either Jareth hated her enough to ignore her, or hadn't been listening to her to begin with. She tried hard not to be too hurt by the thought of him hating or ignoring her, but it was nearly impossible.

After about two weeks of this roller coaster of emotion and thesis research, Sarah's father and Ruth returned home from their vacation. Though Ruth looked at Sarah with cautious eyes, the phone call where Sarah had mentioned Toby went unmentioned. And much as Sarah hated to admit it, not having Toby around was coming to seem more and more normal. If Ruth and Sarah's father had any residual suspicion from baby Toby's disappearance, they certainly didn't let on about it. At times, it was even enjoyable to be treated as an only child. Whenever Sarah would start to feel like that, she would harshly remind herself how much she loved and missed her little brother.

Though Sarah liked being at home, with no little brother to take care of, and with her parents home to take care of the house, it was only a matter of days before she decided to return to her apartment. It was with only a small amount of regret that she hugged her father, kissed Ruth on the cheek, told them that she was heading out, and climbed into her VW Bug for the long drive home.

It was a two hour trip back to her apartment, so she turned the radio up as loud as it would go and sang along with every song she heard – somewhat off-key, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Stopped at a traffic light, Sarah leaned her head back against the head-rest and squinted her eyes against the oncoming sun. As the sun eased behind a building and half its rays seemed suddenly to be extinguished, the light turned a distinct reddish-orange color. Sarah couldn't stop herself from letting out a gasp as she was reminded of the dusty color of the sky and the world at the entrance to the Labyrinth. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to dream that she had magically been whisked there, away from the modern world and all ordinary cares.

Then, however, the traffic light turned green and the car behind her let out an impatient honk. Sarah reluctantly dragged herself back to the real world and stepped on the gas pedal.

Upon arriving back at her apartment, Sarah was surprised at how alien the place felt. True, she had been away for several weeks, but this small apartment had been her home for close to four years, and had always felt quite utterly cozy to her. Now, however, upon stepping inside, she shivered involuntarily. She hadn't remembered leaving the door unlocked, but it was, leaving her feeling even more off-balance. Though flicking the light switch helped to banish some of the dark shadows in the front room, she still felt as though she were breaking into someone else's home: it was both off-putting and wrong.

Despite her foreboding, she dumped her bags on the couch and continued on to her bedroom. She flipped the switch and her mouth dropped wide open.

It wasn't her room.

She couldn't say what it was exactly. After all, the room was clean and it wasn't as though she'd ever hung up any pictures or posters that reflected her personality. It _looked_ like her room, but standing in the doorway and looking in, Sarah knew without a doubt that she didn't live here.

"Must've walked into the wrong apartment," she muttered, hastily turning off the light and hurrying back to the front room.

She flung the front door open and looked at the chipped gold numbers on the other side: _3A_. Sarah frowned. It _was_ her apartment. At least, 3A was her apartment. This place just didn't feel right.

Sarah could have stood and puzzled over it all day long had not a chubby, middle-aged woman walked down the hall, her arms loaded with groceries. She stopped dead at the sight of Sarah standing in the open doorway, opened her mouth, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Startled, Sarah jumped backwards and clapped her hands over her ears.

For some reason, that made the woman scream even louder.

Within seconds, the landlord came running down the hall and skidded to a halt in front of the two women, puffing slightly. Sarah had never been so glad to see his chubby frame in her entire life. The other woman seemed to feel the same way, because she stopped screaming and hid behind him.

"What's going _on_ up here?" he snapped. "It sounds like someone's being murdered!"

"Larry," Sarah said earnestly, "I'm sorry about this – this is my apartment, right?"

Behind Larry, the woman let out a cry of indignation. "This is _my_ apartment! I just came back from shopping, and… and this _stranger_ was standing in my doorway!"

"But – but _I_ live in 3A," Sarah replied, a sick feeling spreading through her guts. "…Don't I?"

Larry looked Sarah up and down. He snorted. "Lady, this is _her_ apartment," he said gesturing to the frizzy-haired woman cowering behind him. "Ms. Geoffard's lived in 3A for almost six years."

"Really…" Sarah replied faintly. How could she have made such a big mistake? "I'm so sorry, Ma'am," she apologized sincerely, her cheeks flushing a dark red. "I don't know how I could have thought – that is – I mean – just let me grab my stuff and I'll be out of your hair – you might want to consider locking your door when you go out. Ahem." Turning around, Sarah made a wild grab for her bags. "L-Larry?" she asked, slipping the bags' handles over her wrist and stepping out into the hall. "I – this is going to sound like a strange question, but I – I could have sworn that I lived in 3A. Um, which apartment – _do_ I live in?"

He gave her a strange look as Ms. Geoffard slipped into the apartment and slammed the door shut behind her. "Listen, lady… You don't live here."

"I…don't?"

"I've never seen you before in my life."

"How can that _be_?" Sarah exclaimed, the sick feeling in her stomach spreading across her body. "I've lived here since I graduated from college!"

He sighed. "You look like a nice girl, so let's not cause a fuss, hmmm? Leave quietly, and I won't have to call the cops about this."

She knew she lived there, she _knew_ it, but nonetheless, Sarah allowed Larry to escort her out of the building. She sensed, rather than saw, him shaking his head, and could almost hear him thinking, "Poor crazy girl."

Confused and not a little panicky, Sarah climbed into her car, hurled her bags onto the passenger seat, and pulled out her cell phone. She punched in the number for home with a desperation that the "old" Sarah never would have allowed to show.

"Come on, damnit," she muttered as the beeps sounded in her ear. "Pick up, pick _up_…"

Finally, there was a click on the other end and her father's voice spoke. "Hello?"

"Hello, Dad?" Sarah asked, worrying tingeing her voice.

"Sarah? Is everything okay?"

"I – I don't know." She laughed soundlessly. "Dad, where do I live?"

"_What?_"

"I know it sounds weird – it is weird – but I got to my building, and, um, according to the landlord, I don't live there and I never have, and so now I don't know – I can't remember where I actually live!"

"Sarah, honey, where are you?" Now he sounded out-and-out worried… not that Sarah could blame him.

"Dad, just tell me!" she said, her voice rising. "Where do I _live_?"

"You live here. At home, with Ruth and me."

Sarah's mouth worked soundlessly. She lived _at home_?

"Sarah?" her father asked urgently. "Are you still there?"

"Y—yes. I'm – But, Dad, if I live… If I live at home, then where did you think I was _going_ when I left today?"

"You said you were headed out, so we assumed that you were going to the library in the city to work on your thesis."

"But I _took_ my _clothes_!"

"You usually do… Sometimes your research goes so well that you get a motel room in town for a couple nights so that you don't have to commute every day… Sarah, don't you remember this? What's going _on_?"

"I… okay." She exhaled. "Never mind, Dad. I'll come home now."

"No, honey, I don't think you should drive right now. Where are you? I'll come get you."

"I'm really okay. I'll be home in a couple hours. I'm a capable adult. Really," she added, as if that would accomplish anything.

"Sarah—"

She cut him off by closing the cell phone with an experienced flick of the wrist, and tossed the phone into the backseat. The silence in her car rang heavily in her ears, but she didn't turn the music on.

"How can this _be_?" she muttered. "I never left _home_?" As much as she would have loved to be confused by what was happening, she understood it all too well.

Upon graduation from college, her father and Ruth had invited her to come and live at home while she was going to grad school closer to home and working on her thesis; after all, it would save her a lot of money on food, rent, and amenities. She'd appreciated the offer but had declined, saying that they already had their hands full with Toby, who, at 8 years old, was being difficult, and she wanted more independence.

It seemed, though, that with no Toby to use as an excuse, she'd wound up moving back home after all.

She'd been so affected by losing Toby and feeling his absence at home every day, she'd never paused to think that it might have had other effects on her life, and as she'd barely ventured from home, she hadn't had to face any of them until now.

With a hollow feeling in her chest, Sarah sighed deeply, turned the car on, and prepared for another two hour long drive back to her parents' house.

By the time she arrived home, the sun had long since sunk below the horizon, and alone in the dark of the silent car, it was easy for Sarah to think gloomy thoughts. At night, all of her determined optimism faded away in the face of the reality of the situation. She was alone, trapped in a timeline that had no right to exist, and with no real plans of ever escaping from it. Odds were that after her accidental wrecking of the Labyrinth, neither Jareth nor anyone else around there ever wanted to see or hear from her again. What chance did she have? No, she would just be doomed to live forever in a world where she had failed to protect her little brother and her friends. She would go to her grave regretting her closed-mindedness and her utter inability to see what was going on all around her until it was too late.

Too late, too late.

It was these worrisome and draining thoughts that accompanied her from the car up the front walk, and to the door of the house, which was abruptly thrown open. Light spilled from the windows and the open door as Sarah's father rushed to grab her in a tight hug.

"For god's sake, don't you _ever_ hang up on me like that again, young lady! I was _very_ worried!"

Sarah hung uncomfortably in his hug. "Sorry, Dad," she muttered. "I, uh, the cell phone lost the signal, and I figured I'd just drive home."

"Come on, let's get you inside." As he ushered her inside, Sarah saw the concern still writ plain on his face. "Sarah, what was going _on_ with you? Are you all right?"

"I was fine, really," she said, somewhat unconvincingly. "I just – Well, you know what it's like when you fall asleep, and have a really realistic dream, and then you wake up and totally forget that it was a dream? Yeah, I was just really disoriented. I'm okay now, I promise."

He didn't believe her. She could tell. Luckily for Sarah, though, as he opened his mouth to question her, Ruth walked into the front hall and cut him off smoothly.

"Sarah, dear, welcome home! Oh, you look exhausted… I know that it's early, but I've put fresh sheets on your bed, so if you want to go to sleep anytime soon, you should be comfortable. I've also put some of the roast from dinner in the fridge, so if you're hungry, all you have to do is pop it in the microwave for about a minute thirty." She then turned her attention to Sarah's father. "David, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about something the boss said at work today. Come on, then!" Ruth grabbed his arm and practically towed him out of the room, only pausing to call back towards Sarah, "While I was cleaning under the couch, I found a few pages of your thesis notes. I put them up in your room!"

Sarah had never loved Ruth half as much as she did at that moment. Her father was just about the last person she felt like dealing with, and Ruth had knowingly gotten him out of the way and cleared the path for Sarah to make a clean break to her room. Refusing to squander the opportunity, Sarah shouldered her bags and took the stairs two at a time.

She didn't feel safe, though, until her door was closed and locked securely behind her. With a heartfelt groan, Sarah dropped her bags against the door and practically fell face-down on the bed.

She could have fallen asleep right then and there had not something crackled annoyingly underneath her body. Feeling around, she drew out several crumpled pages with writing all over them.

"Oh, yeah," Sarah murmured tiredly. "Ruth said something about notes." Despite her exhaustion, she quickly leafed through the sheets of paper to see what notes they were.

As she looked, a frown furrowed her brow. Not only did these notes not ring any bells in her head, they barely made any sense whatsoever. It was definitely her handwriting, but the pages were filled with utter gibberish.

"I must have done these while I was…" Sarah shrugged. It must have been during the week that she barely remembered. Interested in what she'd written, Sarah leaned back against the wall and started from the beginning.

A half hour later, Sarah was more confused with the notes than when she'd started. All of the notes were in complete sentences, and all of the words in the sentences were real. Nonetheless, not a single sentence made any sort of sense, particularly not in the form of thesis notes. Though she wished that she knew what she'd meant when she'd written, "_This blue banana does not speak politely to the dog_," it seemed like a waste of time to try to figure it out. Most likely, Sarah had simply been in some form of delerium at the time.

Of the several pages of notes, there was only one real sentence, but it was scrawled in the margin instead of written neatly on the page, and it was the most cryptic and intriguing sentence of all. It read:_ "Often, true happiness requires a leap of faith, but beware, for you're as likely to fall as you are to be lifted up._"

"I don't understand," Sarah puzzled aloud. "Why would I have written _that_, and what does it _mean_? Why does only _that_ make sense?" She frowned down at the sentence, repeating it over and over again. "True happiness requires… True happiness requires…"

She thought about it while she changed into pajamas, and while she turned out her lights and climbed into bed. Lying there in the dark with her eyes closed, Sarah furrowed her brow and continued to mutter it to herself.

Suddenly, there it was. It was so clear, so quickly, that Sarah's eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed. "…Requires a leap of faith…" she breathed.

And she knew what she had to do. She _knew_ what to do, and a grim smile spread over her face. "Either I'll get back to the Labyrinth or I'll die trying."

Despite her worries about what she now knew she had to do, Sarah closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

The next day passed quietly. Her father and Ruth were at work for the majority of the day, so Sarah didn't have to deal with them much. By the time she woke up, it was already close to noon. Sarah spent the hours calmly, enjoying the sunlight.

At around 4:00 in the afternoon, Ruth called. "Sarah, dear, how's your day going?"

"All right," Sarah replied cautiously. "What's up?"

"Your father and I were considering going out to dinner tonight… We'd be happy to have you if you'd like to join us, but you don't have to."

"Well… Thank you, Ruth, but I think I'll sit this one out," Sarah said. She would have liked to see them, but things would go much more smoothly if her parents weren't around.

"Okay, then. Next time. Talk to you later, Sarah!"

Sarah hung up with a calmness that surprised her. The sun was setting and it was time to get ready.

It was barely an hour later when Sarah, clad only in her nightgown, closed the front door to her house, and walked down the path to her car. Only then did she allow herself to turn around and take in the sight of her house with wide eyes. She'd spent a lot of years in that house, and now she didn't know if she'd ever see it again. She'd left a note for her father and Ruth, but it was cryptic, and now Sarah just tried to keep herself from thinking of how they'd feel when – if – if she…

She took a deep breath, and climbed into her car. Slowly starting up the car, Sarah drove down the street and around the corner without another glance backwards.

It hadn't taken her long to decide where she would go, and luckily for Sarah, it was both relatively close to her house and quite secluded. Back when she was a teenager, they would all go up to the cliff overlooking the ocean to make out, but as the people in her age group had grown up and started to move away from the town, the overlook had slowly become more and more deserted. Now, if you went up on a weekday, odds were that no one would be there.

Leaving the town's lights behind, Sarah parked her car in the woods and climbed out. The forest floor stung against her bare feet, but she didn't let that bother her. All that mattered was reaching the cliff.

As she emerged from the woods, she glanced around quickly, and smiled a little. As she'd surmised, the area was deserted. The sea wind whipped her white nightgown around her legs as she moved to the edge of the cliff.

"This is it," she whispered. "My last chance." One way or another, her worries were about to end. Sarah took a deep breath and smoothed her hair back from her face, but the wind loosened it and blew it around some more.

Slowly, curling her toes around the edge of the cliff, not wanting to look down, Sarah spread her arms wide and stared up at the sky. She fervently prayed to God, or to whoever was listening, that she hadn't been given up on entirely. If she had, then she was about to make the biggest – and _last_ – mistake of her life.

"Leap of faith," she breathed, and squeezed her eyes closed. _Leap of faith_.

The sound of the waves crashing abnormally loud in her ears, Sarah slowly released her toes' grip on the edge of the cliff, and tilted forward, her arms still spread wide as if to fly.

And Sarah fell.

...

**Author's Note**: I updated! Again! What will happen? Is Sarah going to fall to her death? Fat chance! So stay tuned to find out how it all unwinds!


	11. eleven

Sarah tumbled downwards, her mouth open in a silent scream. At first her eyes had been closed, but the strength of the wind had forced them open to stare in horror at the crashing surf zooming upwards in her vision.

Everything was happening fast, so fast. She barely had time to think. Her brain was trying to shut itself down; her vision was trying to go black. It took every bit of strength Sarah had left to keep herself conscious.

As she plummeted, only one thought had time to make itself known. It flashed in front of her eyes, then disappeared: _I guessed wrong_. Amidst the sea of regrets and worries, all hope was lost. She had nothing left. Her eyes began to flutter closed.

No longer did she hold to consciousness; she let go, her body wanting to shield her from the pain of impact. The roaring waves were only feet below when everything faded to black…

And maybe death wasn't as painful as Sarah had feared it would be, because she didn't feel the impact. It felt like she was floating. A gentle light pressed against her eyelids.

It didn't matter that the light felt welcoming; she didn't want to open her eyes. The instant she opened them, she would have to accept the fact that she'd failed miserable, and now she was dead.

…Of course, being dead, she shouldn't still _have_ eyes to open. Or any sort of a body, but she very clearly still did have one.

Puzzled and still shaky, Sarah dared to crack her eyes open, no more than a slit. She gazed around for a few seconds, still utterly confused and disoriented. All she managed to discern was that she was in some sort of a room. So she opened her eyes a little bit wider.

And seeing where she was, a small, relieved smile tugged at the edge of Sarah's mouth.

She was in Jareth's throne room, sprawled on the floor at his feet. And he, arrogant as ever, was lounging in his throne, tapping his cane against his elegant black boot. He was also looking at her with dark, angry eyes.

Sarah didn't let the fact that her hair was in wild knots around her face or the fact that her nightgown had been blown up around her hips bother her. She was far too relieved to be alive.

She dared a wobbly grin up at Jareth's scowling face. His expression didn't change, but he arched a single eyebrow down at her. Sarah, however, didn't feel like dealing with his questions right then.

Instead, she managed to whisper, "Took you long enough, you bastard."

And then, utterly drained, she passed out at his feet.

…

Consciousness took a long time in returning. In that strange way that people who are only still half-awake have, Sarah could tell only that she was in a soft, comfortable bed and that the morning sun was shining into the room, and immediately assumed that she was safe in her room at home. She slowly rolled onto her stomach and pressed her face deep into the plush pillow. Inhaling contentedly, she thought drowsily that her pillow didn't _usually_ smell of fresh flowers.

Sarah pulled the covers up all the way to her chin and snuggled against them. At that moment, she was just alert enough to realize that she didn't have satin sheets and, in fact, never had.

It wasn't until Sarah opened her eyes all the way and observed the room around there – the same room, in fact, that she had slept in after being semi-forced to come to Jareth's castle – that the events of the previous night and the enormity of what she had done crashed back down upon her.

"Oh, god," she whispered, sitting straight up in the bed and clutching the covers to her chest. "I… actually did it."

Though there was wonder and relief in her words, Sarah suddenly felt terrified. Though she had been lucky and had been rescued from her faux suicidal plunge, there was no doubt that what she had done would change her life forever. Of course, she reasoned, her life had already been changed forever when Jareth had stolen her brother away – both times. And though she didn't know what would happen now, what the outcome of all of this would be, mightn't it be for the better? Oughtn't it?

Her only real regret was in knowing the pain that this would cause for her father and for Ruth. After all, not only had they lost their baby son in a method that had ensured them no sense of closure, but now they were losing her, possibly forever. As far as they knew, it _was_ forever. As far as they knew, Sarah had killed herself.

She swallowed back her shame at doing this to them; after all, what was done was done. She couldn't go back. All she could do was do the best she could in the situation she was now embroiled in.

As she stared blankly into space, lost in thought, a dry voice sounded from the doorway.

"Awake, are we, then?"

Startled, Sarah turned towards the sound of the voice to find Jareth leaning insolently against the mahogany doorframe, his arms crossed.

Though her first instinct was to stutter incoherently while drinking in his image, her second instinct wasn't far behind and was, to her mind, much more dignified.

"Yes," she answered calmly. "Yes, we are quite awake now."

"My apologies for not sitting by your side and tending you while you swooned," he said in mock-regret, "but running a realm does make its demands on your time."

Sarah had been preparing – hoping, in fact – to be able to have a polite conversation with him, but his tone raised her hackles. She folded her arms and tilted her head to the side. "Oh, certainly. Why, I can just _imagine_ how your time is filled – disciplining goblins and amusing yourself with your numerous captives. My goodness, you certainly are a busy, busy man."

Jareth snorted and shoved himself away from the doorframe. "I only came to check if you were still alive. Clearly, I needn't have bothered. Good day, then." He turned briskly on his heel and started to walk away.

Sarah, however, remembering why she was there, stopped him with a pleading, "Wait! Please, wait." He paused but didn't turn around, clearly only a half-second from tapping his foot impatiently. Still sitting in the bed, Sarah licked her lips, more unsure of herself than she wanted to admit. "I just wanted to say," she managed, "thank you. For saving me."

Jareth did not move, but she sensed a slight lessening of the tension in his position, as though he were no longer poised to take flight. "Well, I couldn't let you go and do an idiotic thing like killing yourself until I'd found out why. I'm quite meddlesome that way."

Since she didn't want him to know that she hadn't intended to kill herself – not yet, anyway – Sarah stopped herself from setting him straight on that score. "I'm really grateful to you," was her only response, and it was completely sincere.

He turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at her. Was it just her imagination, or did he look almost… affectionate? "I was always aware that you weren't the quickest girl around, but I never thought you'd be a fool enough to take a flying leap off a cliff like that. Did you think it would be a romantic way to die? I can assure you, if you'd fallen only a few more feet, it not only would not have been romantic, it would have been quite the mess."

"I'm aware," Sarah said stiffly. Clearly the affection she'd thought she'd seen in his eyes _had_ been just her imagination. "And, _again_, thank you."

Now he turned around entirely and walked back to her door, gazing at her with hooded eyes. "How could you have been so weak? _You_, of all people. You, who found such pleasure in lecturing me about the virtues of logic and maturity."

"How can you _ask_ me that?" she asked, her anger only half-feigned. "After what you did to me? You steal my brother and throw me in some sort of alternate universe, but you don't bother to alter my memory, so I'm left every day, every _second_, knowing what's terribly wrong with my life, but with no possible way of fixing it? You leave me in pain day in, day out. You do all this, and then you have the _nerve_ to ask me how I could be so _weak_?" As she spoke, her frustration grew. By the end of her speech, she was no longer faking her anger.

He stalked over the edge of the bed and glared down at her. "You deserved it. Or have you so conveniently forgotten _why_ I did that?"

Climbing to her knees so she could look him in the eyes, Sarah's fists clenched. "Of course I haven't! You think that I don't look in the mirror every day and know what I did? That because of me, _my friend_ is dead? I know it damn well and it tears me up inside!"

"Then," Jareth said abruptly, "I assume that I don't need to use magic to keep you in my castle this time. Surely even _you_ would not be so scatterbrained as to try to escape again."

"No," Sarah said through clenched teeth. "I'll stay."

"Good." Jareth turned and started for the door, but before he got there, he paused and glanced back at her. "Oh. And welcome back." Then he was gone, but the sound of his boots clicking against the stone floor echoed back to Sarah for several moments longer.

For her part, Sarah sank back onto the bed with a long, deep sigh. The whirlwind exchange of words with Jareth had left her drained. He was exhausting to even look at, much less to trade barbs with. For a long moment, she stared down at the bed, going over the encounter in her head, testing the force of her anger.

Finally, she exhaled a shaky breath and said, her voice echoing through the silent chamber, "Well, that could have gone worse." Ignoring the slight trembling of her legs, she slid off the bed and onto the floor. It looked like she was going to be here for a while; the first thing she needed to do was find some clothes.

Despite Sarah's most determined efforts, she couldn't find a scrap of clothing anywhere in the room. She looked in the likely places: the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the closet; knowing Jareth's delight at vexing her, she looked in the unlikely places too: under the bed, on top of the canopy, in plain sight – even outside. And yet, her efforts yielded no fruit. Not so much as a pair of gloves.

She sat down in the middle of the floor, a frown creasing the space between her eyes. It was possible that he simply hadn't had time to think of the necessity of her having clothes yet, but even as she told herself that, she dismissed it out of hand. Jareth always seemed to know exactly what he was about, and if he hadn't left her real clothes to wear…

"What?" she muttered. "Can't want me to walk around naked, can he?" Not caring to answer that question, she reminded herself that she _did_, at least, have her nightgown on. It wasn't much, but it would at least keep her covered until she could – politely, of course – remind him that she was in need of more clothing.

That would be, of course, assuming that Jareth intended to come back and not just leave her to her own devices about the castle. "Couldn't be!" Sarah said out loud, glancing around the luxurious room again. "He wouldn't just leave me alone like that. Not after –" She bit her lip. _Not after what happened last time._

Sarah climbed back to her feet, brushing away the thin layer of dust that clung to her nightgown. "Well, Jareth?" she called out as loudly as she could without screaming. "What are you going to do with me? Leave me here to starve?"

There was no answer – not that Sarah truly expected one. All the same, voicing her complaints made her feel just the slightest bit better. After all, she wasn't completely helpless. She could leave her room and wander around the castle; she was still intrigued by the little of it she had seen the last time while searching for "Anna," and perhaps she'd find some food somewhere. At the very least, it would be interesting.

Resolutely, Sarah walked towards the door, trying not to flinch as she stepped off of the burgundy carpet and onto the cold stone floor. Her toes instinctively tried to curl, but she forced her feet to stay flat as she padded out of the door and into the hall. Remembering that on her last trip through, she'd turned left out of the door, she purposefully turned right and strode down the hall.

Not wanting to waste her time opening every single door she came across, Sarah skipped the first few doors on both sides. Besides which, she remembered, things in the Labyrinth didn't work that way. It was half-instinct and half-irrational. With that in mind, she closed her eyes, walked a bit further, and picked a door at random.

Though she almost expected it to be locked, the knob turned easily and the door slid open. Cautiously, Sarah poked her head in the door and looked around. She sighed with disappointment. It was just an empty room.

She closed the door gently behind her and continued wandering down the hall, choosing doors every minute or so and peeking inside. For the most part, she didn't see anything too interesting. The most interesting room she came across seemed to have some sort of fairy dance going on inside; she would have loved to stay and watch, but the fairies all turned and glared at her, so she apologized sheepishly and left as quickly as she could.

After about an hour, Sarah was starting to feel slightly frustrated. She was getting hungry and her feet were aching from her aimless wanderings. She could turn around and go find her room again, she reasoned, but it would take her at least twenty minutes to walk back. Jareth's castle seemed to be a great deal larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. In the end, though, she decided that perhaps she _should_ head back after all – after checking one last door.

The door she wanted to open was perhaps slightly smaller and dingier than the others, but she decided that it was more likely to hold something valuable. Holding her breath, feeling more than slightly apprehensive, Sarah slowly reached out and turned the handle.

The door didn't open.

Sarah frowned and jiggled the handle. Still nothing. This might have discouraged some people, but Sarah was now more convinced than ever that something worthwhile must lie behind the door.

Grabbing the door handle with both hands, Sarah threw her shoulder against the door. It shuddered, but held strong. She winced and massaged her aching shoulder. Releasing the door handle, Sarah backed up until she was against the opposite wall.

Her feet pattering loudly against the floor, Sarah launched herself at the door with all of her weight. She crashed against the door, and things got very hazy for a moment. Next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor, and the door was cracked open.

Clutching her rib cage, which now hurt more than her shoulder, Sarah used the wall to lever herself to her feet and again grasped the door handle.

Though she pushed as hard as she could, the door slid open slowly, creakily, as though it hadn't been opened in hundreds of years. Finally the door was open wide enough for Sarah to slip through if she held her breath. On the other side of the door, she glanced around for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was going on.

Then her mouth fell open in shock.

Though she'd seen this place only once before, she recognized it almost immediately.

It was a ballroom – a circular room with stairs running the diameter and ornate chandeliers with ropes and strings of crystal beads hanging down all over the place, tangling with each other into rainbows of light.

It looked exactly as it had that night, twelve years ago, when for a short time, a forgetful girl in a white dress had whirled in the arms of a man who had looked down at her with eyes that burned. Exactly as it had been – but for one thing. It was completely empty.

Smiling sadly, Sarah slowly moved until she was standing in the center of the room. Despite her aching feet, shoulder, and ribs, and despite her growling stomach, she wanted, just for a few seconds, to feel again like she had that long-ago night: full of hope and promise for the future.

She let her eyes slide closed and brought her arms up: her right as though it were resting over another's hand, her left resting on a shoulder she could only wish were there. She would never know how alone she looked at that moment, a dancer with no partner.

Swaying back and forth to music only she could hear, Sarah began to whisper under her breath, "One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three…" Starting with small steps, she slowly widened her strides until, all by herself, she was gracefully waltzing around the ballroom.

As she danced on and the rhythm became as natural to her as breathing, she ceased whispering the count and moved in silence. And after a few minutes, Sarah could almost convince herself that she felt a strong hand clenching her own, a warm shoulder's muscle flexing below her palm.

She sighed to herself. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, even in her imagination, that she positively craved the touch, the warmth of another. Not wanting to destroy the illusion, Sarah kept her eyes closed and continued to dance in the arms of her phantom lover.

Gliding back and forth on the ballroom floor, a dreamy smile spread over her face. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so completely comfortable and graceful – or even wanted.

At that thought, she laughed quietly to herself. Wanted, yes, but only in her imagination. And a woman could not live on imagination alone.

With that in mind, she opened her eyes, prepared to face the emptiness, the fact that she was all alone, and that the warm skin she felt under her hands was nothing more than her wishful thinking.

A pair of eyes, one blue, one brown, were gazing calmly into hers.

Sarah choked back a shriek of surprise. "You – it was – was _you_…" She tried to pull her hands away, but Jareth captured his right hand in his and wouldn't let go. There was an expression in his face that she couldn't ever remember seeing before.

Though he looked at her intently, all he said was, "Thank you for the dance." He sketched a slight, but polite bow, and released her hand.

"I…" Sarah licked her lips. What was she going to say? A dozen responses came to mind:

"_It was my pleasure."_

"_May I please have something to eat?"_

"_Jareth, I really need some clothes."_

"_Why was this door so hard to open?"_

"_Why did you really save my life?"_

"_Do you hate me, Jareth?"_

In the end, though, feeling the blush on her face, all Sarah managed to say was, "Where is my brother, Jareth?"

He blinked, a cool mask settling over his face. "Beg pardon?"

"My brother," Sarah repeated, feeling as though she had just missed an opportunity that might never come again. "Toby. Where is he?"

Jareth crossed his arms, but didn't speak.

"I'm sure you remember Toby," she said, trying to keep irritation from her voice. "A skinny teenage boy… Came here to rescue a crush of his. Where is he? Where are _they_?"

The haughty expression on Jareth's face never altered. "She is no longer here."

"_Where_—"

"Your brother made it through the Labyrinth with flying colors."

Sarah stared at him incredulously. "Really? He did?"

Jareth shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't bother to make it as difficult for him as I did for you."

"Why not?" She paused. "Not that I _wanted_—"

He cut her off grimly. "I find I just don't care so much anymore. In any case," he continued, smoothly blocking any questions she might have had, "since he made it, I sent the girl on home, of course. I had no reason to keep her."

"Oh. O—oh," Sarah managed. "And Toby? What happened to him?"

"Single-minded, aren't you?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "Jareth, haven't you – did you ever have any family? Friends? _Anyone_ you cared about?"

"Family? Friends?" He sneered, though the edge of his mouth twitched just slightly. "Never had any, nor did I ever desire any."

"Then…" She gestured helplessly. "Where did you come from? Who raised you?"

"My _dear_ lady," he said, pronouncing the endearment as though it were something loathsome, "I am the King of the Goblins. I do not live a mortal life as you know it. I was not born and I will not die – not in any way you could possibly understand. I did not _become_, I just _am_."

Sarah pursed her lips sardonically. "Are you trying to say that you're a god, Jareth? _The_ God, perhaps?" She laughed harshly, but the sound died in her throat when she saw the look on his face.

She had never seen a face go so grey and brittle-looking before, but Jareth looked as though he would shatter if she pushed him over. "Don't joke," he said in a clipped voice, "not about that." He glanced at the ceiling with a look that, in another man, she would have interpreted as nervousness.

Sarah shook her head confusedly. "I don't understand. _You _joke about everything."

"Not everything." Jareth leaned closer to her, presumably to speak in a lower voice. "You think I'm beholden to no one?" He sighed, frustrated. "This is what I've tried to make you understand all this time. I have my place, Sarah, and I don't aspire to anything more. I have my duties. They're not always pleasurable, but they are my duties. They are my _purpose_. I need nothing more. Why should I waste time – oh, I don't know – petting puppies and being nice to people? You always said that I took pleasure in abducting the innocent; you act as though I have a choice in the matter. What choice _is_ there?" he asked, his voice growing ever more frustrated. "I was created for a specific purpose – by whom or what I do not know, nor do I care to guess – and that purpose is to rule this kingdom and deal with it when you mortals foolishly, _selfishly_ wish away those about whom you care. That is all. That is my place, and I don't care to tempt fate by meddling with it overmuch."

By the end of his angry outburst, Sarah's eyes were as wide as they'd ever been. Never had she heard him talk for so long…or so seriously. He'd revealed more to her in those few sentences than she'd managed to puzzle out in her twelve long years of wondering.

She longed to put her hand on his shoulder, to comfort him even though he didn't actually appear to be in any sort of pain, but all she did was breathe, amazed, "What a terribly sad life you've lived…"

He blinked frostily. "When you return to your room, you'll find adequate supplies awaiting you there. Excuse me."

Jareth was almost to the door before Sarah called after him.

"My _brother_, Jareth!"

He paused only briefly. "Somewhere in the castle, I'd imagine. You can bloody well find him yourself."

And then he was gone.

…

**Author's Note:** Well, _that_ took an unexpected turn. And by "unexpected," I mean that I had no idea that Jareth was going to go all philosophical on me till it actually happened. But I _do_ so love it when Jareth and Sarah fight. So expect more of that. Lots more. … And don't pout at me, because they're the type of couple who _totally_ would fight all the time, and you know it.

So… Will Sarah ever find her brother (at this point, even _I_ kind of want him to go away… He's keeping them apart, and that annoys me!)? Will she ever learn to stop talking at the times when she should clearly just grab Jareth and kiss him? And how on earth is this story _ever _going to end if they can't stop fighting for two seconds? Stay tuned while I try to figure it out myself…


	12. twelve

Sarah stood stunned, caught off guard by Jareth's abrupt departure. No, more than that, caught off guard by his unexpected candor that, in a strange way, laid clear all of his hostility, his vulnerability, and even his fears. Once she would have said that she could spend a whole lifetime with the man and never really know him; now that had changed, though she wasn't sure in which direction it had shifted. Did it make him more knowable, more human, somehow? Or did it merely make him more alien? She shivered.

She had learned more than that as well. Despite the way in which her heart was still pounding wildly from his presence, Sarah grinned a little. She'd found out that Toby was somewhere in this very castle, presumably safe and unchanged from the last time she'd seen him. And of course, she would start looking for him almost immediately.

"Well," she amended softly, "as soon as I get a bath. And some fresh clothes and food. And maybe a short nap."

Though she felt slightly guilty about making Toby wait for even an hour more, she quickly convinced herself that getting some food and some actually restful sleep behind her would make her search for him quicker and more efficient.

With that in mind, Sarah took a last, lingering glance at the ballroom. It truly was a beautiful room. Maybe someday, if she succeeded, she would be able to dance in it again. Slowly, but without a second glance, she squeezed through the opening in the door and pulled it tightly shut behind her.

After the brilliance of the ballroom, the halls of Jareth's castle looked darker and drearier than ever. The cold stone felt harsh and rough when compared to the smooth marble brilliance of the floor on the other side of the now-closed door. So soon after leaving, Sarah already yearned to be back inside.

"Feh," she muttered. "Probably just another one of his tricks. He likes to keep me off-balance and to make me forget what I'm really here for."

What _was_ she really there for? She frowned. She'd come for Toby, hadn't she? Not just for Toby, of course, but had he not been stuck here, she would have just stayed at home… Wouldn't she have? Or would she have come back regardless, rather than spend the rest of her life with unspoken regrets?

Sarah shook herself like a wet dog, breaking away from her short reverie. There was no time to stand around and stare at the wall; she had things to do!

Moving purposefully, she grabbed a torch out of a nearby sconce to light her way back to her room and to make the endless hall seem less oppressive. With a firm stride, Sarah set off back to her room.

To pass the time as she walked, she sang under her breath. Though she started off quietly singing rock songs, as she went along, she realized that the halls had _incredibly_ good acoustics; by the time she could see the large double doors that led to her room in the distance, she was belting out arias from operas at the top of her lungs. At any other place or time, Sarah would have been far too embarrassed to sing loudly, despite the fact that everyone had always told her that she had a lovely voice (likely inherited from her mother). Here, however, the only one even remotely likely to hear her singing was Jareth, and she told herself resolutely that if her singing annoyed him, well, he likely deserved it.

The little voice inside her head whispered that she should be nicer to him since, after all, he _had_ saved her life when he might have just as easily watched her fall to a gruesome death.

"Oh, yeah?" she muttered at that little voice as she stepped into her room. "Well, what _else _has he done for me la—" Her voice trailed off as she looked around her room.

To say that it had changed would have been an understatement.

Though the opulent bed and furnishings had not changed, most everything else had. Beautiful dresses and swatches of fabric now lay draped over every available surface. In the corner of the room, a large circular table now stood, and upon that table lay a silver platter. On the platter were plates containing generous portions of all of Sarah's favorite foods, ranging from beef stroganoff to macaroni and cheese, all still piping hot.

But the biggest change was the appearance of a door next to the bed. Sarah could have sworn that it hadn't been there before. When she hesitantly opened it and craned her head around to peek on the other side, she gasped involuntarily.

If her bedchamber here could be said to be fit for a princess, then behind the door was a bathroom fit for a twentieth century girl. Sarah's eyes lingered with appreciation on the porcelain toilet and sink, as well as the full-length mirror, but none of those were what really caught her eye. She couldn't help but stare longingly at the enormous bathtub in the corner of the room. Not only did it look big enough for her to practically swim in, it was already busy filling up with hot water. What looked to be pink, scented bath soaps had been added, and the tub was brimming with pink bubbles. Next to the tub hung large, fluffy-looking towels.

It was probably the nicest gift anyone had ever given her. Though her stomach was rumbling and the bed's softness called to her, Sarah unerringly tossed her nightgown over her head and immediately sank into the bath.

She moaned softly as the water caressed her skin, kneading muscles she hadn't even known were tense. It had been a very, very long time since Sarah had taken a bath instead of a shower, and an even longer time since she'd taken a bath with only relaxation in mind.

As she lay in the water, completely limp, letting the bubbles tickle her, a frown creased her forehead. Why was Jareth being so nice to her? Sometimes she started to think that she had a handle on him, but then he did something like _this_, and landed Sarah right back at square one. For a moment, Sarah was actively frustrated; then she remembered that she was lying in bubble-filled hot water, and that there was hot food waiting for her as soon as she decided to get out. With that in mind, she closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and just let herself enjoy the bath.

She must have drifted off at some point, though, because when next she opened her eyes, the light spilling through the windows had changed considerably. Somehow, though, the water hadn't chilled at all. Sarah stretched drowsily and slowly climbed out of the bathtub, noting that she looked like nothing so much as a big, pink raisin.

"Well," she said aloud, ruefully, "at least I don't need to nap now." She quickly reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself; the air wasn't _that_ warm, after all. Combing her hair with fingers (apparently, Jareth had forgotten one or two amenities), Sarah tucked the edges of the towel in so it formed a makeshift robe, and wandered back into her bedchamber, curious as to whether the food would still be hot.

Back at home, she would have been amazed to discover that, after the hour or so she'd spent in the bathtub, the food was still steaming, but here, she only raised an eyebrow and smiled upon seeing it. After all, it seemed that Jareth could do nearly anything; how hard could it be to keep food hot?

With a grin that couldn't be described as anything but impish, Sarah pulled up the nearest chair, dumping the blue velvet fabric that was lying on it onto the floor, and plunked herself down in front of the food.

She was, after all, starving.

Sarah was nearly halfway through the beef stroganoff and had started in on the pepperoni pizza when there was a quiet knock at the door. It was so quiet, in fact, that had she not been taking a two-minute break from stuffing her face to digest, she never would have heard it.

Glancing over at the door, which was already open a crack, she called, "Come in!" already wondering who could be on the other side. Jareth certainly wouldn't knock like that. Jareth wouldn't even _bother_ to knock. He'd simply stride into the room, assuming that anyone and anything in it already belonged to him, so why should he worry about knocking? So it couldn't be Jareth on the other side of the door.

A small head peeped around the edge of the door. "I can come in? That's what you said?"

"Yeees," Sarah said slowly, mentally running through her list of every goblin she'd ever met and trying unsuccessfully to identify this one. As it scurried through the door, shutting the heavy mahogany slab tightly behind itself, she examined it as closely as she dared.

It couldn't have been any higher than her knee. Like Hoggle, it had leathery skin and a bulbous nose, but it also had enormous, pleading eyes, a tiny petulant mouth, and small, stumpy, withered wings that hung limply from its shoulder blades. All in all… It was one of the cutest-looking goblins she'd ever seen, as well as one of the most pathetic-looking.

And it was currently looking around the room as though it expected some demon – or at least, Jareth – to spring out from a dark corner and scare it.

"Hello," Sarah said softly, and in as comforting a tone as she could manage. It did no good; the goblin still jumped several feet in the air at the sound of her voice. "I'm sorry for startling you… Can I help you with something?"

The goblin scuttled over to her and clutched at her towel-clad knee. "You!" it said. "You… came before?"

"What?"

"You were… here before?"

"Um, yes," Sarah replied finally. "I've been here before. Twice, actually."

"The boy, he belongs to you?" It looked up at her desperately.

"The boy?" Sarah bit her lip. "Is… is the boy sort of tall and skinny with… reddish hair?"

The little creature nodded vigorously. "He yours?"

"Yes!" Sarah exclaimed, still careful to keep her voice low. "He is. Please can you tell me—"

It cut her off. "You want to find him, you go left from this room and he's up two floors. In the big room."

Sarah was quite still for a moment, then she grabbed the goblin's tiny hands. "You're _sure_? Left, up two floors, and I'll find him?" She knew quite well that she probably shouldn't trust this creature, but as she had no reason _not_ to, and as no one else had volunteered any information whatsoever as to Toby's whereabouts, she didn't see what it could hurt to at least check it out.

The goblin nodded again. "Promise. He's there. Please, lady, take him."

Now she was confused. "_Take_ him?" she repeated. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

If it had looked frightened before, now it looked positively petrified. "Because," it whispered, staring at the floor, "because of _him_."

"Him? Him wh—" Sarah cut off her own question. In her experience, there was only _one_ capable of inspiring such fear in the goblins. "Because of Jareth."

"Y—yes!" The goblin firmed its small chin and looked back up at her. "Since the boy came, he – His Majesty – _he's_ been angry. Restless. Pacing at nights. Scaring us all. Short temper – short_er_. You take the boy away, His Majesty gets better. See? Take him!"

"Really?" Sarah asked. "Ever since the time the boy came, Jareth's been in a bad mood? Are you sure that it's because of the boy?"

It nodded sharply. "'Course it's the boy. Nothing else it _could_ be, is there?"

Sarah had her doubts, but of course she nodded gravely and agreed with the goblin that it _had_ to be because of the boy. "Do you work in the castle?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah. Work here. Small so I can keep from being underfoot. No one wants to be underfoot when _he's_ about." It cringed. "Or we get tossed in the Bog."

"I understand," she said with sincerity. "I wouldn't wish the Bog of Eternal Stench on _anyone_."

"And since the boy… More and more of us getting tossed. So you see? You have to do it. Take the boy."

"Okay," she replied, squeezing its tiny hands. "I'll get the boy out of here. I promise." Looking only slightly relieved, the goblin extracted its hands from hers and hurried towards the door, but was stopped by Sarah's, "Wait!" She smiled at it. "I don't know your name."

For the first time, it looked distinctly annoyed by her questions. "Grunt. All goblins in the castle are Grunt. So _he_ doesn't have to remember names. _He_ calls, we all answer."

"Not very nice of _him_, is it?" She smiled lopsidedly down at the small goblin.

Grunt clapped its hands over its mouth. "Don't say that! Could be worse!" Without another word, and without even giving her a chance to say goodbye, Grunt opened the door with astonishing dexterity for one so small and awkward-looking, and squeezed out into the hall.

Sarah leapt from her chair and dashed over to the door, but by the time she glanced out into the hall, Grunt had already disappeared without so much as a sound to betray where he'd gone.

She sighed with a hint of frustration. "Everything changes so fast around here, how can I _ever_ keep up?"

Of course, she wasn't _that _frustrated. After all, now she had a clue as to where to start looking for Toby. She drew her head back into the room. With only the smallest of longing glances at the pepperoni pizza back on the table, Sarah fell to her knees and started digging around in the piles of dresses for something in which she could actually move.

It wasn't as easy as she'd hoped.

While the dresses were all incredibly gorgeous – just the sort of thing that every small girl, at some point, dreams of wearing – they were not terribly practical or even very comfortable.

In the end, Sarah had to compromise and pick a dress that was decently comfortable, if lacking in maneuverability and durability. She ended up wearing a dress with a satin, dark blue, cinched corset top and a billowing blue velvet skirt, embroidered here and there with tiny, twinkling diamonds. It was definitely flattering, and low-cut enough that Sarah blushed upon seeing her reflection in the mirror.

"I've worn _bikinis_ more modest," she muttered to herself while pulling on a pair of high-heeled lace-up boots that had appeared to complement the dress. In contrast to the soft, feminine opulence of the dress, Sarah pulled her hair back in a tight, ordinary pony-tail. That, at least, was practical. She could hardly be efficient if her hair were hanging in her eyes and blocking her vision, could she?

Finally she was fully dressed… Or as fully dressed as she could get, in any case. She took a deep breath. Finally, after over two months of waiting, she was going to find her brother.

Stepping out into the hall, Sarah resolutely turned left, trying to ignore the oh-so-feminine _click_ing of her heels against the stone floor. It wasn't such an easy sound to ignore, though, mostly due to the echoing acoustics in the castle hall. After several moments, it was not only distracting, it was downright annoying.

Sarah merely firmed her chin and kept going. Much as she'd have killed for a simple pair of sneakers, they had not been made available to her, and given the choice between using the warm boots and going barefoot against the cold stone… Well, it wasn't much of a contest, really.

All the same, she was relieved when she walked through a large portrait gallery that was carpeted, and the ubiquitous _click_ing was silenced, at least for a moment or two. Looking up at the portraits, Sarah paused. Though there could have been no less than at a hundred paintings lining the walls, and though she half-expected to be greeted by the faces of Jareth's forbearers, what she was seeing was, in many ways, so much more disturbing.

Every single painting in the hall was of Jareth. Jareth, seated on his throne. Jareth, standing proudly amidst various portions of the Labyrinth. Jareth, gazing out of a window. Jareth, twirling glass spheres in his hands. Jareth, wielding enormous power. Jareth upon Jareth upon Jareth stared down at Sarah, and though his settings and activities varied, it was always the same, vaguely bored expression, the same haughty mismatched eyes.

Shivering, feeling as though she were actually being watched by every single Jareth in every single painting, Sarah started moving again, and quickened her pace. For the first time, she started to wonder exactly how _old_ Jareth was. Some of those paintings had looked downright ancient, but the Jareth in them didn't look a day younger than the Jareth she knew.

Too, the look in his eyes in the portraits was haunting her. She had left the portrait gallery behind before she realized exactly why. It was, she realized, because it didn't vary, didn't change. It seemed as though for Jareth – at least, the Jareth in those paintings – one activity was much the same as another, and none of them held any particular joy for him.

His words from that day, months before, finally began to make sense: _"Are you completely daft, or are you just not listening? I was born to this. There are times that I would rather be doing something else, but I am the Goblin King. It's my job."_

He'd been telling her this all along, but she hadn't listened really. Sarah had just assumed that of course he actually enjoyed what he was doing; after all, he'd treated _her_ with a certain amount of sadism. But now, faced with evidence to the contrary, she felt embarrassed for accusing him so vehemently.

Finally, Sarah halted in front of a giant staircase. Glad to have something else to occupy her thoughts, she whispered, "Up two floors. This shouldn't take _too_ long."

As was quickly becoming common practice, however, Sarah spoke too soon. Far too soon.

Though she could have sworn that it was a normal length flight of stairs, five minutes later, she still hadn't made it up _one_ floor. Already feeling the burning in the back of her legs, Sarah glanced back, wondering. She groaned. Though the ground floor was clearly a distance below her by now, she didn't seem to be any closer to the second floor than when she started.

"Real nice of you, Jareth," she muttered darkly, slightly out of breath. "Had to put all sorts of fun little booby traps in place for me, didn't we?" Despite her annoyance and the pain that came of climbing far too many stairs, Sarah shook her head and started climbing again. She couldn't stay trapped in between two floors forever, after all.

Another five minutes passed. And still, she hadn't seemed to move at all.

Now she had to sit down and massage her calves, hiking her full skirts above her knees. "God_dammit_," she muttered, her annoyance growing to anger. "Why would you want to _stop_ me? Don't you _want_ Toby and me out of here?" He probably wasn't listening, but it felt so good to shriek at Jareth that she raised her voice and yelled, "Just let my find my brother and _finish_ this, damn you!"

Suddenly, there was a creak from the wall next to her. As she watched with a strange sense of déjà vu, a small panel opened in the wall itself and a small, pointed face with huge eyes peeked around to stare at her.

"So _loud_," it said.

Sarah's response was a puzzled blink. "Grunt?" she asked slightly cautiously.

"Yes. Same Grunt as before. And you, lady… So very _loud_. Trying to bring the castle down around us all? Like you did before?"

"No!" she exclaimed, blushing a dull red. She hadn't thought that anyone besides Jareth would have known or remembered the conclusion of their first confrontation. "I… How long have you been in this castle?"

"Long time. So. The problem?"

"Huh?"

Grunt gestured. "You. Sitting on the stairs and shouting. Why not going and taking the boy?"

"I'm _trying_." Sarah frowned. "No matter how high I climb, I don't seem to… Well, get any higher. And I'm sure that there's something I'm just _missing_ or not seeing or something, but… How do I get to the third floor? So I can, uh, take the boy."

Grunt rolled its huge eyes. "Walked right up the stairs? Stuck now, lady."

"_What_?" she snapped. "No. You can't mean that. I'm _not_ stuck here."

"Well. Unless…"

"Unless what?" she asked, tempering her irritation. "What can I do?"

"See _this_?" it asked, motioning to the small panel and to the small tunnel from which, presumably, it had come. "Can you squeeze?"

Sarah stared in horror at the tunnel. Though she wasn't claustrophobic, nobody would have liked the prospect of wriggling through _that_, particularly not in _this_ dress.

"Is that… is that the only way?" she asked with futile hope that maybe Grunt would shake its head.

"Only way. Come now… or stay."

"Okay, I'll come." She groaned, but thanked her lucky stars that she was naturally skinny, and followed Grunt into the tunnel.

Almost immediately, she regretted it. It was black as hell in there. For Grunt, it must have been relatively easy to move, but for Sarah, it was a _very_ tight fit; she could _feel_ the dirty walls scraping against her sides.

"Grunt?" she asked, her voice sounding surreal in the incredibly close blackness. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Still here, lady. Keep moving."

Sarah would not have thought it possible, but this was worse than climbing stair after stair after stair. She had to fight for every single inch, digging her fingers and feet into any crack or hole she could find, pulling herself up. It was exhausting and not a little frightening.

Time seemed to compress to a single moment: find a handhold, move another few inches, and start all over again. Her breath rasped in her ears, but she could still hear Grunt scrabbling along in front of her.

"Almost there now. Just a little further."

"Thanks," she replied breathlessly, then continued struggling for progress.

At long last, she could see a little light silhouetting Grunt's skinny form, and then there was more light, enough so that she could see the shape of her dirty arms in front of her.

Finally, a little dazed, definitely grubbier than when she'd started, but not actually _that_ much worse for the wear, Sarah crawled out of a hole in the wall, and onto a solid floor. For a moment, she just lay there, her feet still dangling in the tunnel, pressing her damp forehead against the cool floor. Then there was a slight nudge against her elbow, and she glanced up.

Grunt was standing there, and had clearly tapped her with his foot. "Third floor. Find the boy."

She nodded breathlessly with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Grunt. I will, I promise."

"…Get out of way."

"What?"

Grunt frowned (at least, she thought it did, but with its small mouth, it was difficult to tell). "In my way. Can't go back into tunnel."

Sarah turned around and looked back at her dangling feet. "Oh. Oh… Sorry." She pulled her feet away from the tunnel, and Grunt immediately hurried back into the tunnel and was gone before she could thank it again.

She groaned, hoping that she didn't have much further to go to find Toby. After another moment lying prone on the floor, Sarah felt strong enough to sit up. As she wobbled upward to a sitting position, she noted that her dress _was_, in fact, surprisingly resilient, and was only slightly frayed at the bottom hem and dusty.

Then, finally, she looked up and at the room in which she found herself. And she couldn't stop herself from groaning. Like the ballroom, she had seen this room before, definitely, but _this_ room she had never wanted to see again.

There were staircases everywhere she looked, in all directions and dimensions, and she knew from experience that she could, simply by going through one door or another, step onto all of them. This was the room where it was too easy to lose orientation and perspective. This was the room where she and Jareth had come head-to-head when they fought over Toby.

"Oh _no_," she moaned. As she looked upwards in the massive room, further and further, she craned her head all the way back to the ceiling… Where a skinny figure was sitting in apparent dejection.

Even from that unnatural angle, and even from a distance, Sarah recognized it immediately. She'd seen it thousands of times.

Tilting her head back, Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs, "_Toby_!"

…

**Author's Note:** Yeah, so I apologize for the relative boringness of this chapter, and by "boringness," I mean, "lack of Jareth." He was _supposed_ to show up, I swear! Unfortunately, it took Sarah longer to find Toby than it should have. Dammit. But I promise, _promise_ you all more Jareth in the next chapter, and I also promise that there will be arguing between Sarah and Jareth. Of course. Because that's what they do. And because it's so fun.

As always, thanks for reading!


	13. thirteen

The response was immediate. Way up on the ceiling, Toby's seated figure snapped to attention.

His voice echoed down to her. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Toby!" she yelled again. "It's me! It's Sarah! Are you all right?"

Even from a good hundred feet above, the misery in his voice was evident. "I don't know… I – I can't find my way out of here!"

Sarah looked around desperately, remembering how difficult it had been to get to Toby the last time she was in here. "Okay," she called back. "Just… stay there, all right? Stay there and I'll come get you!"

"Right!"

And so, despite the fact that she was still breathing hard and aching from her time on both the staircase and in the tunnel, Sarah squared her shoulders, and chose a direction to head. Down a staircase, through an arched door, and she found herself… all the way across the room, but still no closer to Toby. She groaned. This was going to take a while.

No matter how many doorways she strode through, no matter how many stairs she ran up or jumped down, she still couldn't get herself on the same level as Toby. Only now did she remember that she hadn't actually reached him the previous time either; in the end, she'd had to close her eyes and jump, to…

"…take a leap of faith," she muttered breathlessly, a small smile playing around her lips. She finally leaned against a doorway, taking a few seconds to gasp for air.

"Toby?" she called to him. Craning her neck, she saw that he was now seated directly above her, exactly perpendicular, looking down at her with amazement.

"Sarah," he said, his voice amazed. Thankfully, they were no longer so far apart that they needed to yell. Though they were still a dimension away from normal interaction, they could talk and look each other in the face, as long as her neck didn't start to hurt from gazing directly up for so long. "How did you _get_ here? After I… After I saved Anna, that guy said that you were gone, back home."

"I was," she answered. "I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get here, but I couldn't figure out a way to get back here sooner."

"'This long'?" he quoted. "How long – how long has it _been_?"

"You don't know?" she replied in shock. "Have you been in here the whole time?" He nodded wordlessly. "It's been…" She bit her lip, hoping that he would take the news calmly. "Um… somewhere in the vicinity of two and a half months?"

"_What_?" he yelled.

Sarah winced. He wasn't taking it calmly. "I'm _really_ sorry," she said strongly. "I couldn't figure out any way… Jareth – that guy – Um… Well, I didn't leave voluntarily. He kicked me out, and I didn't think I could get back at _all_."

"He kicked you out?" Toby yelled. "What's going _on_?"

Covering her ears with her hands, Sarah glared up at him. "I'll explain that all later. Right now, I'm just trying to _reach_ you!"

He frowned down at her. "You stay where you are now. I'll try and come find you."

Sarah nodded, so Toby immediately leapt to his feet and was off like a shot. She pressed her back against the wall and slowly slid down into a seated position, thankful for the brief respite. How _was_ she going to explain this all to him? How was he going to take it if he learned that his big sister had once meanly wished him to be kidnapped and turned into a goblin? Sarah grimaced. She couldn't lie to him, though. Not anymore.

And what was Jareth going to have to say about this? Was he going to be happy that she was taking her brother off of his hands? Would he simply snap his fingers and magic them both back home before she had a chance to say a word? Or would he keep her prisoner because he was sure that she was _this_ close to throwing herself off a cliff again?

"Frankly, none of those sound good to me," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees. Though, to be fair, Sarah wasn't sure what she wanted. There were times, moments really, when her mind was firm and completely made up, but the rest of the time, she seemed to be adrift in a sea of "_Should I or shouldn't I?_" She frowned. She wanted to have her brother back; she was sure of that, at least. But she also wanted Jareth, and as for that one, she didn't know if it was a wish that was even slightly compatible with everything else she wanted, or if they were mutually exclusive. At that, she didn't know if it was a wish that was even possible. "Just like the dog with two bones," she muttered, feeling as though in wanting too much, she was going to wind up with nothing in the end.

"Sarah!" sounded directly in her ear.

Involuntarily, she shrieked in surprise, and swiveled her head around. Now Toby was standing behind her, holding_ his_ hands over his ears. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Why'd you do _that_?"

Over her initial surprise, Sarah blinked several times, then threw her arms around Toby, hugging him tightly. "Toby," she whispered. "I was so scared that I'd never see you again."

Patting her on the back, Toby awkwardly disengaged from her embrace. "I'm really glad to see you, Sarah. I was scared too." He looked her up and down. "Um… You've changed a little bit."

She almost laughed, but she was too close to crying to laugh. "Oh, that's not me. I just borrowed these clothes from… Well, I needed something to wear!"

"…Why?"

"Because I all had was my nightgown."

"Your _what_…?" Toby now looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Sarah had to remind herself that he was now thirteen years old. "Nothing weird, Toby, I promise." She linked her hands behind her back to keep herself from hugging him or doing anything that he would deem _too_ embarrassing.

He nodded suspiciously. "How do we get out of here?"

Sarah paused for a moment, not wanting to tell him that she really wasn't sure. "Well, as soon as Jareth sees that we're both here, he'll do something about that, I expect."

"_Jareth_? The guy who – who did all this? You're on first name basis?" He crossed his skinny arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well… Sort of…" With an effort, she managed to keep herself from squirming. "Toby, I—"

"—are planning on telling me exactly what's going on right now, _right_?"

She sighed, knowing she couldn't put it off for any longer. "Fine. To make a, uh, long story short, Jareth and I met twelve years ago – as you may have already guessed. I was kind of a brat, I guess you could say, and I'd had a really bad day – it's no excuse for what I did, but I didn't mean any harm, I promise."

"What did you do?" he slowly prompted.

"I – I wished that the goblins would come and take you away." She cringed, awaiting his reaction. And he didn't disappoint.

"_What_?" he yelled. "You did _what_? I can't _believe_ you did that!"

"I know it was bad," she said quickly, "and believe me, within seconds I hated myself for it. That's why I decided to try to get through the Labyrinth, Toby. Because I had to get my brother back."

"Why would you have _done_ that?" He didn't stop yelling, not pacified in the least by her hasty words.

"It was – " she sighed unhappily. "I'd been yelled at by Ruth, and I felt like I was being ignored, and then I was told that I'd have to take care of you, and you wouldn't stop screaming and crying… I said it out of frustration. I _didn't _think that anything would actually happen! I mean, people wish bad things upon their siblings all the time, but no one even expects _goblins_ to actually _show up_, right?"

"Because I was _crying_?" he stared at her, and she fancied that she could almost see his admiration for his big sister crumbling down around him. "You wanted me to be kidnapped because I was a _crying baby_?"

"You're not listening," she snapped, frustration starting to replace her agony at Toby's reaction. "They were idle words, designed to relieve my stress. Odds were that you'd fall asleep eventually, everything would be fine, and no one would be the wiser as to a hollow wish made by an unhappy fourteen year-old!"

"And you're not listening to _me_," he snapped back, not to be outdone, his chin taking on a familiar mulish set. "_You_ believed in goblins, Sarah. I've heard stories about you when you were young, from Mom and from Dad and from _you_, so don't _tell_ me that you didn't believe in goblins!" He shook his head. "I still can't believe you _did_ that!"

"Do you know how many times I almost got killed on the way to the castle? How many times they tried to get me to turn around and forget it all? But I kept going, you got that? I _kept going_ because I had to save you!"

"Yeah, because Mom and Dad would have been very unhappy if they got home and I wasn't there."

"Because I realized – " She broke off, realizing that her efforts right now were in vain. 'Look, Toby, you're my baby brother and I love you, and that's why I went through the Labyrinth the first time, and that's why I got thrown out this last time, and that's why I _jumped off a damn cliff_ to get back here _now_. So you can either believe me, or you can decide that I'm a selfish, horrible person." She folded her arms stubbornly.

"Jumped off a cliff," he said incredulously. "Sure. Right."

Before she could frame a response, the room around them began to blur and its colors and shapes ran into each other. In no more time then it took to draw in a startled breath, she and Toby were standing in Jareth's throne room, still nose-to-nose.

Both she and Toby turned, looking confused, and found themselves staring at Jareth, who was, as usual, lounging in his throne, and who was currently applauding sarcastically.

"Wonderful. Lovely," he said, his words belied by the dryness of his tone. "Brother and sister reunited. How sweet and touching it is to see the tenderness with which they converse."

"_You_," Toby snarled, and would have made a mad dash at the throne then if Sarah hadn't grabbed his upper arm in a death grip.

"Don't," she said in a low voice. "He's very powerful."

The side of Jareth's mouth tipped upward in a cruel grin. "How true. Now then, how shall I deal with this nuisance?" He looked keenly at Sarah, and she was sure that his sharp eyes noted how she tried her level best to look calmly back at him.

"Send us home," Toby said firmly, but with a hint of boyish nervousness. He really had grown up during his ordeal. "If we're a nuisance, then let us go home and we won't bother you again."

Sarah closed her eyes briefly, desperately wondering what, if anything, she should say.

"_Us_. Really." Jareth's strange smile got wider. "From what I was hearing, it sounded a good deal like you two are not fond of each other right now. Boy, are you quite sure that you don't wish to leave your sister here?"

Toby's eyes widened. "_I_ would never wish my sibling away. _Ever_." His pointed words were quite sufficient without the glower in Sarah's direction.

"You're _sure_ of that?" Jareth asked quietly. "After all, she did abandon you for two whole months…"

Sarah's mouth fell open in outrage. Not giving Toby a chance to even consider the idea, she marched up the steps leading to Jareth's throne and glared down at him. "You _liar_," she snarled. "You know damn well that you didn't intend for me to ever be able to come back, and that _you_ were the one who wanted to leave him in that room for all eternity. Or are you just annoyed that I found a way to come back _anyway_? That I _tricked_ you?"

A single eyebrow raised. "Tricked? Do tell. I love a good fable."

She had played her card too early and she knew it, but she couldn't stop. "I jumped off of the cliff on purpose," she said, her words low and heated.

"Of course you did. Very few people dramatically leap off of cliffs by accident."

"You actually – she actually jumped off a cliff?" Toby asked in amazement, but neither Jareth nor Sarah was paying attention to him at this point.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," she countered, noting with smug satisfaction that he actually looked surprised. "I knew that you wouldn't just let me come back here, not after what… what happened." She shook off a lingering image of Didymus's broken body and continued. "So I knew that I had to take a chance if I ever wanted to see my brother again. I would have to risk everything, not knowing if you would still be watching me or if you were, whether you would even bother to save my life. I gambled with my life, and I _won_, Jareth, so don't you _dare_ say that I abandoned him. I—" She paused, suddenly struck by inspiration. "I fulfilled my _duty_, and you would have expected nothing less."

Somewhere in the middle of her impassioned speech, Jareth had taken his eyes from her face and was now gazing at the ceiling. When she spat out the word _"duty,"_ he actually winced.

"Well-played," he said, so quietly that she could only just hear him, and Toby had no doubt heard nothing at all. "So," Jareth continued, his voice louder again, but darker than usual, "You both just want to run home to Mommy and Daddy, is it?"

Sarah turned her head to look at Toby. He still looked quite cross with her, but met her gaze and nodded, mouthing, _"Yes."_ She turned to look back at Jareth, who was looking right back at her. She didn't know what it was exactly… There was nothing in his face that showed any emotion about her leaving one way or the other, but still, there was something…

After all, he _had_ been watching her and _had_ saved her life. He had come and danced with her of his own free will. And there was the ugly sound in his voice when he asked if they both wanted to leave.

Whatever the case, she realized, she couldn't come this far and back down _now_. She wasn't done gambling yet. And it was time to roll the dice.

"I want you to send my brother home," she said to Jareth, her voice sounding strong and decisive. "But without me."

Toby's reaction was immediate. His pique with his sister apparently forgotten, he rushed up to her and grabbed her hand. "_What_?" he asked. "You can't be serious, Sarah! Don't – don't you want to go home? You can't stay _here_."

She turned to face her little brother. "Toby, it's not that I don't love home. Or you. But – I have unfinished business here. I can't explain it to you right now, but I can't go home with you. Not now, anyway," she added, wanting to comfort him.

"But—"

"Listen to your sister, boy," Jareth said sternly, but Sarah could have sworn that she saw a hint of a smile – a real smile – lurking around his lips. "No harm will come to her unless she does something _incredibly_ stupid."

Toby glared at him. "If you think I'm leaving my sister here, you're _crazy_."

"You aren't leaving her here. You're just leaving here… without her."

"Do you _want_ her to stay?" Toby replied, horror in his voice. "What's going _on_? Sarah—"

"Don't worry about me, Toby," she assured him. "This is my choice. Listen, just tell Dad and Ruth that a great opportunity's come up… I have a chance to do some incredible fieldwork… or something. And tell them that I love them and everything." She managed a grin at him, though she felt like she might cry. "Really, Toby, did you expect me to stay near home forever?"

"Being on the other side of the country is one thing," Toby replied frantically, "but I expected you to stay in the same dimension!"

"It's not like you'll never see me again," she said. "Seriously." She hugged him, and this time, he let her.

When all was said and done, though, Jareth was quite ready for Toby to depart. As Sarah released him from the hug, Jareth rose to his feet and Sarah blinked in surprise as her little brother seemed to evaporate in front of her.

And then it was just her and Jareth.

Surreptitiously wiping the tears from her face, Sarah turned around, and she and Jareth stared at each other.

"So," he said.

"So," she agreed.

"Hmm," was his response. "Sometimes I _do_ wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours."

"Funny," she replied. "I was about to say the same exact thing to you."

And he laughed. An actual laugh. The richness of his voice and the unexpectedness of that particular response stunned Sarah to utter silence. He turned serious again quickly enough, though.

"Why did you stay?" he asked.

"Why did you let me?"

There was a long moment of silence then. Sarah _didn't_ know what was going on inside Jareth's head, but _she_ was experiencing a mix of complete panic and – other things that she couldn't identify. In fact, the only thing she was absolutely sure of was that she was feeling very, _very_ panicked.

As if sensing how close Sarah was to changing her mind and scuttling off after her brother with her tail between her legs, Jareth said, "Walk with me."

She nodded wordlessly, and together the two of them strolled out of the throne room and down a hall Sarah hadn't noticed before. It was several minutes before Jareth spoke up again.

"You do realize that you didn't have to hurl yourself from a cliff to get my attention, don't you?"

Sarah shrugged, but inside her heart was hammering. "You hated me," she managed. "I figured that it was the only way – that you wouldn't lift a finger for anything less."

"I never hated you." She stared at him disbelievingly, but he merely shrugged. "I was frustrated and disappointed, perhaps, but what do I care about one goblin more or less? The damage you caused to the city, while annoying, was easily repaired. The only permanent losses were those who died, and I, frankly, didn't care about any of them."

"I do." Sarah stared at her feet, remembering her friends.

"Yes, that made for quite a good punishment, I think." Jareth nodded to himself.

She told herself that she wouldn't allow Jareth to irritate her. The last thing she needed right now was to have him walking away from her again. Her only response was a curt, "Well done."

"You are missing the point, Sarah, and I do believe it's purposefully. The _point_," he continued, "was that I never did hate you." He paused briefly before continuing. "You frustrate me, and you confuse me. I tend to find myself at a loss whenever I try to contemplate which utterly ridiculous action you'll take next. You waltz in my front door by flinging yourself from a precipice, and the next thing I know, you're crawling through servant tunnels and distracting me from my work by singing opera. You are ludicrously single-minded, you have all the patience of a bull being taunted by a red sheet, and a particularly singular talent for annoying me and making me lose my rather formidable temper."

By now, Sarah's face was a dull red and she wanted to curl up and die. He was telling her that she was nothing more than an annoying pest underfoot, and whatever reason he had for agreeing to her continued residence at the castle, it had nothing to do with his heart. If he had one.

"Well," she said, striving for a tone that didn't sound hurt, and utterly failing, "I'm sorry that I've messed up your life so much, but at long as we're categorizing faults here… You are arrogant, _mean_, manipulative –"

"Guilty as charged," he interrupted, holding up his gloved hand for silence. "However, you are missing my meaning – _again_. It is true that you are all these things, frustrating, impatient, and so on. But that, I believe…" He paused and tilted her chin up with his hand. "…is why I enjoy your company so much."

Sarah gasped, her cheeks turning even redder, if it were possible. "You… enjoy…" She coughed then, trying to recover at least some of her composure. "I believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Jareth released her chin and shrugged lightly. "Most likely true. The best I've ever gotten from you, by the by, has been mean, arrogant, and… What was the third one, again? Ah, yes. Manipulative."

"Those are all true," she mumbled.

A ghost of a grin touched his lips. "Or maybe the best compliment I'm to expect is that you decided to stay here, knowing that you would have to contend with me?"

"I _do_ like yelling at you."

Though he didn't laugh this time, Sarah got the distinct impression that he wanted to. "What a pair we make, the two of us, hmm? I'm fascinated because you keep me on my toes, and you like screaming at me so much that you couldn't bear to leave."

Now _she_ laughed. "You seem to enjoy it when I scream at you."

"It's rare enough that I find someone who keeps me guessing, much less a beautiful woman who does so."

"But you didn't think that two months ago, did you?" she asked softly.

"Two months ago you _were_ utterly predictable, much to my dismay, I assure you." He glanced over at her. "You've changed since then, though. You're more like… Not how you were when you were younger, but someone entirely new."

"And that's…good?" she ventured.

He smiled. It was one of those smiles that showed off his pointed teeth and made Sarah weak in the knees. "Better than I could have expected." This time, she smiled back. "Do you know when I realized it?"

"When?" she asked.

"When you jumped. The fact that you were willing to tell every bit of logic and rationale you have to get stuffed. You had nothing to go on except for your belief, Sarah. And yet, you still did it."

She shrugged sheepishly. "I had to save my brother."

Jareth was silent for a moment. "Your brother. And that, of course, was why you came back."

"He's part of my family, Jareth," she countered. "As unpredictable as you say I am, did you _really_ expect me to abandon him?"

"No." He now looked distinctly smug, and Sarah wasn't sure why. "But you can't pretend that your staying on _now_ has the slightest thing to do with your brother. 'Unfinished business,' I believe you said it was."

"Yes," she replied, fighting back a new wave of humiliation. "I guess you could say that." He arched that eyebrow at her again, and something inside Sarah snapped. She was tired of being so scared, of dancing around the subject. "Okay, Jareth, you want a compliment from me? A real, honest-to-goodness compliment?"

"I am all eagerness."

"You've haunted me for twelve years," she said bluntly. "Ever since I met you, every single man I've met has been viewed through a… a biased lens, because for whatever bizarre reason, you became my ideal of what a man should be. It's very strange, considering that you were my _enemy_, but there it is. Every man I've dated, every man I've kissed or slept with… They all disappointed me and most of them bored me, simply because they weren't _you_. And over the years, I had to learn that none of them would _ever_ be you and that I would have to learn to settle for a nice, sweet, sensible man. Then suddenly, _there_ you were again," she punctuated her words by gesturing wildly, "and you were yelling at me and I was yelling back and slapping you and trying to defy your orders, and… it was the most exciting, interesting thing that's ever happened to me, and I wanted _more_. I couldn't willingly leave with Toby and go back to a normal, boring life without finding out… finding out if…if…" She licked her suddenly dry lips. It had been going well, but then she'd gotten embarrassed again, and now she couldn't finish the most important sentence of her whole speech.

Luckily for her, Jareth saved her from further embarrassment. "Sarah," he asked seriously, "why were you dancing all by yourself this morning?"

"This morning… Um…" She wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. "I was pretending."

"Pretending what?"

"That I wasn't dancing all by myself."

He paused in front of a door and opened it. Somehow Sarah had known that the gleaming ballroom lay behind it.

Slowly, Jareth moved to the middle of the floor and held out his hand to her. "Well, then," he said softly. "I believe we should remedy that right now, shouldn't we?"

It felt like she was floating as she walked over to him, and later on, she wouldn't be able to say with any confidence whether there had been any music playing or not. Whether a whole orchestra had been in the room or whether she and Jareth had danced to nothing more than the rhythm of their beating hearts… It didn't really matter. What mattered was that she was in the arms of the man she loved, looking up into his strange eyes, which, for once, held nothing but peace and contentment.

…

**Author's Note:** My goodness. Took them long enough, didn't it? Well, this is the penultimate chapter… Yes, that's right, only one chapter left to go! Took _me_ long enough too, I suppose.

_Coming up in the final chapter:_ Sarah and Jareth have finally come to an understanding, but can it last? Or will their different lives and disparate duties pull them in different directions?


	14. fourteen

Life settled into its own peculiar rhythm once Sarah and Jareth had come to their understanding. They fought constantly, made up nearly as often, and spent the remainder of the time taking advantage of all of the fringe benefits that making up has to offer. Jareth would disappear for hours at a time to deal with goblin affairs, and Sarah would use that time to continue exploring the castle. No matter how many times she could open a door that she would have _sworn_ she had opened the day before, there was always something new to discover on the other side. Then, with his usual impeccable timing, Jareth would show up the instant her interest in exploring began to wane, and the whole cycle would begin again.

Sarah had never been happier in her life.

Though there were moments of discomfort – such as when she tried to convince Jareth to tell her what he had done with Hoggle, or when the topic of her family inadvertently came up every now and again – she soon began to regard the castle as home every bit as much as she had her childhood house. For the most part, she and Jareth consciously avoided topics that would cause any actual rifts, and the making up that came afterwards was immensely satisfying, both physically and emotionally.

Though she never said, "I love you," and though he _couldn't_ say any such thing, the two of them understood each other quite well. When Jareth drew near to Sarah, she could feel the heat in his eyes, and he could see the longing in hers, and they both understood every word that was left unspoken.

And time began to pass.

Sarah no longer paid any attention to how many days had gone by. Her world had narrowed to this castle, and to the man who ruled it. It didn't matter, then, how many days or weeks or even months she'd spent there: she was either with him, or busy entertaining herself, and that was how she counted her time. She was never truly bored, and on those rare occasions that she stayed alone in her room, it was always nice to have a spare hour for a bubble bath, a nap, and a small feast.

For all Sarah knew, mere days had passed since she had last seen Toby, since Jareth had danced with her, since she had first kissed him.

It came, therefore, as quite a surprise when she looked in the mirror one afternoon while dressing and noticed suddenly that her hair was now long enough to brush against the small of her back. Dazedly, she drew the mass of brown hair over her shoulder and gave it a good yank, as though to ensure it was all real and all truly her hair.

How could this be? Last she remembered paying any attention to her hair, it had only extended as far as her shoulder blades. Awkwardly measuring the distance between shoulder blades and small of the back, Sarah estimated that it was a good seven or eight inches.

She frowned. How could she not have noticed how much longer her hair had gotten before today? Abruptly, she snorted. Though she didn't like to admit it, she could imagine exactly how she hadn't noticed. Jareth was… rather distracting. No, she decided, a much better question to ask herself was this: exactly _how_ much time had actually passed?

Sarah spent the remainder of the afternoon pacing in her room distractedly. Now that she had shaken off the blissful cobwebs in which she had been adrift, she found herself plagued with unhappy thoughts. Images of her family returned, in spite of her efforts to keep from remembering. Guilt too returned. Sarah alternately groaned and hid her face in shame as she realized what tortures her family might be going through.

What had Toby told them after all? Did her father and Ruth force the truth out of him? Did they think that she was dead, murdered and buried in a ditch somewhere? Or, even worse, did they think that she had committed suicide?

And so it was that Jareth returned at dusk to a distraught Sarah who, for a moment, didn't even seem to realize that he was there.

"And how have _you_ been spending your afternoon?" was murmured in her ear.

Sarah was so startled that she nearly leapt several feet into the air, but in the end, only winced and swung around to face him. He grinned, exposing his sharp teeth; it wasn't often that he managed to catch her completely off-guard anymore, and he savored his small victories where he could.

She, however, was in no mood for teasing and didn't waste time with small talk. "How long have I been here, Jareth?"

Jareth blinked several times. This wasn't something they talked about, and he was, no doubt, surprised by the suddenness of it, but his pause was barely perceptible before he responded, "A while, I'd imagine."

"Yes, I understand that much," she replied, frustrated. "How _long_ is a while?"

He folded his arms over his chest, a look sliding over his face that once she wouldn't have been able to define, but which she now immediately understood as defensiveness. "Well," he said finally, his voice betraying none of the tension of his posture, "it's hard to say. I haven't exactly been counting the days."

"How long." It wasn't a question.

"I would guess – a _guess_, mind you – somewhere in the vicinity of… eight months or so."

Sarah didn't scream. Seemingly surprised at this, Jareth risked a glance at her, then very much looked like he wished that he hadn't. She was standing with her fists clenched at her sides, and her face was very pale, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Eight months," she repeated. "Eight…months."

"I suppose you're about to blame me for this."

"What?" she glanced up at him, noting the brackets of apprehension around his mouth.

"You think I've waggled my fingers and cast some sort of spell over you to make you forget the time."

For an instant, Sarah was tempted to believe him – it would have soothed her conscience. But after a moment, she shook her head. "No, Jareth. No, I… I don't blame you. Not this time." Slowly, she walked over to the bed and sat, gripping the bedpost for support. "You didn't need to deceive me about how much time was passing. You see, I…" she trailed off, glancing up at him for a moment before resuming, "I was quite happy to deceive myself." A pained smile appeared on her face. "I had a birthday and I didn't even realize it. I'm twenty-seven years old now."

Jareth gingerly sat down besides her, but he didn't attempt so much as a pat on the hand. "You _don't_ blame me," he repeated, still sounding less than certain.

"No… I can't blame you. It was my fault." She raked her hair back out of her face. "I was the one who asked to stay in the first place without so much as an idea of how long I _should_ stay. And I – I didn't want to feel the time passing. I knew that I'd feel guilty if I realized how long it had been, so I just…didn't." She shook her head. "Who needs magic when there's a stubborn mind about?"

There was a long pause before he asked, "And now?" When she didn't answer immediately, he cupped her cheek with his hand and gently turned her to face him, repeating his question. "And now?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"And now you want to leave," he answered his own question. "You've realized how worried your family must be, and you think you must return to them. You wonder how you could have ever spent so much time here with me, and you don't want to admit it, but you want to go back to your lovely little adult world." Jareth's voice grew darker and uglier as he spoke. By the final words he was nearly snarling, and his grip on her face had tightened to the point that it was painful.

Sarah winced away and he released her almost immediately. Her heart felt like it was breaking.

"Jareth, I – " She licked her lips, wishing that she didn't have to be honest. "I miss my family."

"No doubt. But make no bones about it, Sarah, once you leave here, you're not coming back again. I won't send you any more clues."

"C-clues?"

"Did you really think that you came up with that ridiculous 'leap of faith' idea on your own?" He snorted. "I wanted to see if you had the ability to understand it, and I was pleasantly surprised. Of course, I had to pretend that I didn't know exactly what you were doing."

Though she was taken aback by his words, Sarah wasn't about to let herself get sidetracked. Not about this. "I can't spend the rest of my life sitting in this castle, alone but for you. I can't, and you know that."

"Of course I know that," he replied, his voice still dark and raspy. He looked away. "And in any case, sooner or later, unlike myself, you'd grow old and lose your beauty, and my interest in you would die."

A tear spilled over her eyelid and traced a silent path down her cheek to fall, unnoticed, onto the satin of her dress. "So you want me to leave."

In response, he shrugged sharply. "I have no interest in looking after a doddering old woman."

As embarrassed and upset as Sarah was, a small bit of wounded pride forced itself to the surface. "Well, in that case, we'd better send me home as soon as possible. After all, my hair might start going gray any day now."

"As you wish." Abruptly, Jareth rose to his feet, straightening his shoulders as he gazed down at her imperiously. "You'll forgive me if I don't snap my fingers and send you back right this second. It's been a most trying day and I'm quite exhausted. If it suits your schedule, I'll send you on your way bright and early tomorrow morning. You'll be home in time to greet your family as they awaken. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He turned and walked quickly from the room, the sound of his boots against the stone louder than ever before. Sarah stared blankly at the door as the tears slipped over onto her face, and finally, when she knew that he wasn't coming back, she lay down and curled up into a ball, crying bitterly.

…

That night was near as miserable a night as she'd ever known. She tossed and turned for hours, only to fall into a troubled sleep sometime well after midnight. Her dreams were confused and filled with images of her hair growing longer and longer until it wrapped itself around her neck and choked the life out of her. Usually she would have woken up as the choking began, gasping and quickly realizing that it was a dream, but not this time; she did not awaken at that point, and the torture just seemed to go on and on into eternity.

It wasn't until the sun cast a single solitary ray over the wall that she awakened as though she'd had an alarm clock in her head. Her eyes snapped wide open, and she lay there for a moment, trying to figure out why she was awake.

And then it came back to her: Jareth would be sending her back, and he'd said he would do it bright and early. Bright and early…Sarah cast a dread-filled glance out of the windows.

She shakily reasoned that she had better go find Jareth; if she didn't he might just decide to send her back suddenly without saying goodbye. Sarah was still conflicted and upset, but one thing she was sure of was that she didn't want to leave without seeing him one last time, without saying goodbye.

So, still in her nightgown – it was the only thing she had that actually belonged to her – Sarah swung her feet over the side of the bed and gingerly placed them on the cold stone floor. Since she didn't fall apart doing that, she stood up. She wobbled a bit doing that, but caught herself against the bedpost. And since she was still on her feet, she took one step, then another and another, shivering in the early morning chill.

In this way, one step at a time, Sarah managed to leave her room and make her way towards Jareth's throne room. Concentrating on staying on her feet made it so that she didn't have any second thoughts about what was happening.

From a distance, approaching the throne room, she knew that he was in there. It wasn't that she could see him or hear him, since that would have required much more attentive and attuned senses than she had; it was the almost tangible sense of fury surrounding the room that alerted her to Jareth's presence.

She drew near slowly, peeking around the wide doorframe. Normally, she would have stormed into the room, demanding whatever it was she wanted, but today she was scared of him (and rightfully, too). He was sitting on his throne, his back ramrod straight, unlike his usual decadent reclining posture, and he was glowering off into space. At that moment, it was entirely possible to fathom how this man had an entire kingdom of monsters so afraid of him that they barely even dared to speak his name.

She tried anyway. "J—J—Jareth?" Only a flicking of his eyes in her direction indicated that he even noticed her peeking from behind the door. Nervously smoothing her nightgown, Sarah practically tiptoed into the room to stand before him, and clenched her hands together so they wouldn't shake.

"Come to say goodbye, have you?" His voice was cold and distant. "How bloody polite."

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Sarah couldn't quite meet his eye, but instead stared somewhere in the vicinity of his chin. "Jareth, I—I—I—I don't… I mean, that is—"

"Hurry it up. I don't have all day."

Angered by his callousness, Sarah straightened up, emotion burning two red spots high on her cheeks. "I'll _take_ as long as I _need_. You _owe_ me that."

"It would seem that I owe you nothing except to pack you straight off to your beloved family."

"Not yet, _please_," she begged. With nothing left to lose, she managed to lift her gaze to his eyes, and what she saw there gave her courage: two eyes, haughty as ever, yes, but every bit as tormented as she felt. It gave her the strength to say, "Jareth, I don't want to lose you."

He was tapping a single finger against the armrest of his throne, but didn't even seem to be aware that he was doing it. Sarah hoped that it was nervous energy causing it and not impatience.

"And what would you have me do? Go with you? Leave the Labyrinth, put on a suit, and get a _job_?" Jareth spoke the word as though it were something loathsome and disgusting. "I couldn't do that even if I _wished_ to."

"I know that I can't expect you to—"

"Good," he cut her off, ignoring that her next word had very likely been 'but'. "I'm gratified that you remember that my duty is here."

"Duty…" she whispered softly, sadly.

"Mine is here. Yours is not."

"How do you know that?" she asked. "How do you know that my… my _duty_ isn't here?"

"You said it yourself. You can't spend the rest of your life in this castle."

"Oh… Oh, right." She hung her head. There was no hope left. It was an impassable rift. "Is that it, then? I go home, and you stay here and forget all about me?"

"Yes. Or near enough as makes little difference."

"Why wouldn't you let me come back?" she asked. "Why does this have to be goodbye forever?"

"You realize that your questions are merely prolonging the inevitable."

"Answer them anyway."

"Because when you leave, if I let you come back, you'll want to leave again sooner or later – or I will want you to leave. As I said yesterday, you'll grow old, and I won't. I am not in the habit of allowing myself to be jerked around in this manner."

"So you'll end it all now to save yourself future hurt," she said in a soft voice. "How very adult of you."

He shot her a black look, but before he could respond, a small goblin raced into the room and prostrated itself at Jareth's feet.

"Your Majesty!" it squeaked.

Jareth didn't take his eyes from Sarah's. "Not now. I'm busy."

"Y—Your Majesty, we have another one." As if to punctuate his words, the sound of a frantically barking dog suddenly echoed through the castle and into the throne room.

Jareth groaned. "I see."

"Did someone—" Sarah started.

"Yes. Wished their dog away." Jareth glared up at the ceiling. "Impeccable timing. I have to go speak to the erstwhile owner immediately." He glanced back down at her. "It looks like your homecoming will have to be delayed at least a little. Excuse me."

And he vanished, leaving Sarah alone in the throne room with the little goblin, who was only now looking up warily from its prostrate pose. It squeaked to see Sarah looking down at it.

"Don't be afraid," she said softly. "I won't hurt you."

Slowly, it glanced up again, but didn't say anything.

"Tell me," she said in the same soft voice, "does this happen often? That people or animals get… wished away?"

The little goblin nodded. "All the time."

"He hates it, doesn't he?"

It blinked solemnly, but didn't reply.

"He'd rather spend time doing other things, but he has to deal with this happening all the time and he hates it… Right?"

This time, she got a teeny nod in reply before it scrambled to its feet and made a mad dash from the room.

And Sarah smiled, just a little. She had an idea.

It only took her a few minutes to get it all figured out, which was good… since a few minutes were all she had.

By the time Jareth returned, clearly in even more of a foul mood than when he had left, Sarah was seated on his throne. She was more nervous than ever and was shaking inside, but on the outside she looked relatively calm.

He stared at her with hooded eyes. "You're sitting in my seat."

"Yes."

"Get out of my seat."

"You really hate it when people do that, don't you?" she asked, not without sympathy in her voice.

"Do what? Sit in my seat?"

"Wish loved ones away." She crossed her legs and leaned back in the throne. "You really hate it because it cuts into your time and makes you deal with annoying people."

"Well, it's my—"

"—duty, I _know_," she interrupted, feeling as though she had the upper hand for the first time. "That doesn't mean that you enjoy it… Having to drop everything you're doing to go and check on their progress, wasting your time with random confrontations and sabotages… You _hate_ it."

He shook his head in consternation. "What are you trying to do, Sarah?"

It was the first time he'd said her name that day, and it emboldened her.

"I'm saying that you could use some _help_, Jareth. You'd like these people to get through the Labyrinth more quickly so you can give them back their siblings or pets and get rid of them more quickly." He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't give him the chance. "Do the rules of duty say that you can't have any help? Particularly if that person helps you of her own free will?"

The dark look on his face eased slightly, and Sarah fancied that she might even see a little hope in his eyes.

"What exactly are you proposing?" he asked.

"I'm proposing that I stay," she replied bluntly, maintaining her outward calm, but quaking inside. "I'm proposing that I stay here – with you – and help you with this."

"You stay here," Jareth repeated, sounding puzzled. "What would you do?"

She smiled shakily. "Haven't you ever read any fairy tales? For every evil fairy, there should be a good fairy who helps the travelers on their way."

"Good fairy."

"Exactly. That way it would speed things up, and you wouldn't have to deal with them in between the initial meeting and the final confrontation."

"It's my duty to make things more difficult for them."

She shrugged with a shy smile. "So you make things more difficult and I make things easier. Sounds like fun."

"Before you embark on your new career as a fairy godmother, might I remind you that you're still human and _mortal_?"

"But you could change that, couldn't you?" He stared at her, and Sarah swallowed. "What I mean is," she continued, her voice shaking slightly now, "if you have the power to change humans into goblins, then I'm sure that you have to power to… to make someone like, well, _you_."

"So," he linked his hands behind his back and raised that ever-insolent eyebrow, "you want me to make you immortal; is that what you're saying?"

"No." She stood up and descended the stairs to look him straight in the face. "What I _want_ is _you_. And this would give me a reason to stay."

"But…" He grabbed her hand and squeezed it between his own. "But what of your family? Of your_ duty_?"

She shrugged. "Who's to say that my duty doesn't lie here, huh? I'm still young… I have no serious commitments back there. And as for my family…" She faltered briefly.

"Sarah, if I do as you suggest and make you immortal, you'll no longer be human. And you'll _never_ be able to go back there."

"I…I've accepted that. Jareth, I love my family, but they had me for twenty-six years. I'm less mature than I used to be," she smiled slightly, "but I'm still mature enough to make my own decisions. And… if you'll have me… I've decided to stay here. With you."

"I don't know about this. It would change everything. It's not in the _plan_."

"So change the plan." Now it was she who grabbed his hands and looked up at him trustingly. "If anyone can do it, it's you."

"Are you sure about this? It would be a life unlike anything most people want, and so many women your age want… Er…"

"Marriage and children?" Sarah smiled. "Hey, why the rush? The way I see it, we've got all eternity for that kind of thing."

Jareth blinked in surprise at her forthrightness, his eyes almost owl-like for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, a grin crept over his face. A real grin.

Sarah smiled back at him with all of her heart. She would never forget her family, but she knew she had made the right choice. After all, this was where she belonged. Here where everything made so little sense that it made perfect sense.

It had taken a long, strange journey to get her to where she was now, but after all, that was the Labyrinth's way, wasn't it? It might take longer than expected, and it might cause grief and terror along the way, yes, but the Labyrinth always got you there in the end.

**The End**

…

**Author's Final Note:** And there you have it. A happier ending than I usually write, but I felt that I'd already put them through enough pain.

And in a bizarre little way, my life while I wrote this story _was_ like a strange journey. I began this back in mid-'03, and a lot's happened since then. Relationships began and ended, I lost and gained good friends, I lost a guinea pig and gained a dog, I lost both grandmothers, descended into depression and fought my way out, and I started and stopped this story a dozen times. When I started, I was halfway through college, and now I'm preparing to graduate.

If it weren't for those of you who kept reviewing… even when I hadn't updated in months… I probably would never have touched this story again, much less finished it.

But yes. It's been a long strange journey, and the _me_ who's typing this note is a different _me_ than the one who started this story. It's all been worth it, though.

As always, thanks for reading, and thanks to those of you who kept reminding me that I had a story to finish!


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